Hi Everyone,

We know it’s been a long time since we posted a blog, but we received an email from friends recently that tells the story of one dad’s grief journey one year after his daughter died. We have been given permission to share his email with you. The names and places have been changed to protect their identities.

IRONIES

Cassie, my daughter, died a year ago today.

I’m sitting in the waiting room as a young lady who has prepared to give her life for a minority language group delivers her baby.

It’s 9:45am 9-13-11 Sri Lanka time. Twelve time zones away from the event that changed so many lives. As the earth turns and the calendar changes, it is 356 days from the moment I left Cassie’s side and the last opportunity for a vigil by her husband began.

Moments tick by towards life…
Moments ticked by towards death…
Moments tick by towards new beginnings…
Moments ticked by towards sad endings…

“I should be praying not scribbling these musings,” part of me says. There is an army at prayer. “You notified the trumpet blower yourself,” another part of me says.

Jane, my wife, who has never given birth to her own, was invited to be, “The mother, sister, favorite aunt,” to the young lady having this baby.

Jane is inside with her. I am outside with my thoughts.

Janes uses the word “ironic” a lot. I never use the word. I don’t like the lack of warmth or the sound of it.

Bury, marry, birth, joy, tears, all on the same day.
What of the heart? How much can it take?
Labor is labor, love has a price.
Work for your wife, work for your children, work for your KING… S T R E T C H.

By request I step out to get Jane some tea, and seeing…

MATERNITY WARD:
Cleaner, quieter, happier, more orderly.
The birth process, breathe, push, rest – every time, all the
time, six billion times.

THE REST OF THE HOSPITAL:
So many concerned an masked, people holding their chests,
stairwells filled with the waiting.
Elevators not working, throngs needing relief.
Politely moving with the flow, praying for the wounded, seeing
the comforters and those in pain.
Everyone suffering their loss and gain.

Ahh, a word from inside. “Contractions are close, she’s doing great!”

Young, strong, full of life. So oft a song in her heart, setting her feet to dance.

Now sweaty and bleeding and grasping… God help the baby. God help the mother. Breathe, protect them, breathe, check heart rate, breathe.

A man would scream. This little one pushes, perspires and prays, remaining strong.

Ironic… Typically, doing nothing vicriously, running my own race, bleeding as needed, but today is a day for
Watching,
Waiting,
Listening,
Praying,
Remembering.

Cassie, unconscious, surrounded by a magnificent cohort of expertly trained. Seventeen tubes and a host of beeping, blinking, pushing, pulling machines, all fighting for her life.

The contrast here, today, in truth – a body delivering a body.

The hand of God in both rooms. One was taken to her Father, another one, is given to her mother.

The world turns. Night into day, darkness into light, sorrow into joy.

The baby is born, we smile and approach the throne, trusting for both now, and for next.

Hi Everyone,
It’s been a while since our last blog and this one comes to you with a heavy heart. We found out yesterday that doctors have determined that our youngest granddaughter is blind. She had been born with several complications with part of her brain being undeveloped. She has undergone brain surgery more than once. Now this.
As I talked with my son yesterday I realized that life is always filled with unexpected turns. Turns that we could never plan for, nor would we want to.
As we talk with moms and dads who have lost a child this reality comes up over and over again – life is filled with the unexpected.

Judy with baby Ellie. She is such a miracle baby!

The challenge of course, is how do we deal with those unexpected, unwelcome moments in life? How do we deal with the death of a child? How do we deal with the death of dreams unfulfilled because a life is cut short? How do I vent my anger toward a drunk driver, or inadequate medical care, or God? How can I face a day without my loved one? Questions to which there are no easy answers.
But we have found there is a source of hope. Someone who is willing to carry our budens, and listen to our angry outbursts. One who isn’t surprised by our emotions, or our questions. Someone who’s had to watch as His son bore unspeakable pain and abuse at the hands of murderous men. Someone who’s been angry Himself, and who has seen His own son killed by angry men, so that you and I could have hope of seeing our loved ones again – even after death.
God is His name. And He loves you and me. He has promised that all who put their faith in His Son, Jesus, will never perish but have eternal life.
As Judy and I weep over our granddaughter’s condition, we also find strength in knowing that she is in God’s hands. The same hands that created the universe. The same hands that will one day wipe away all our tears. Until then, we will hope and pray for life’s miracles as Ellie grows with her special needs.
God bless as you face life’s struggles. We love you, Pat & Judy

Hello Everyone,

We are enjoying an incredible “heat wave” here. Yesterday the temp got all the way up to 50 degrees. Snows melting, and Spring fever is setting in. But, as all Minnesotan’s know, winter isn’t over yet! March will bring more snow

Judy was reading a  book recently entitled, MY SOUL THIRSTS FOR GOD. In the book she read this quote from Hudson Taylor, who was a missionary in China in the late 1800′s. Toward the end of his life he was physically and emotionally drained as reflected in these words of his, “I am so weak that I cannot work. I cannot read my Bible; I cannot even pray. I can only lie still in God’s arms like a child and trust.” (P. 125)

As Judy read this to me I couldn’t help but think, “This is how someone who has had a child die feels.” We certainly experienced these feelings after our daughter, Mickey, died. And we hear this over and over again from guests who come to Whitetail Lodge.

The pain that follows losing a child affects every area of life.

Moms and dads who were working when their child died often find it hard to concentrate when they return to the work place. Shock often numbs the brain to the point where it becomes incredibly difficult to focus on what is expected by your employer. Even the most mundane chores can become mountains in the eyes of the grieving parent.

Some parents seem surprised that even their faith is tested after a child dies. As Taylor mentions above, there are times when even the ability to pray seems taken away. But I hope you don’t miss Taylor’s closing words, “I can only lie still in God’s arms like a child and trust.”

 When trust is destroyed so many other issues seem to raise their ugly heads. Issues like anxiety attacks, confusion, bitterness, and depression. Trust is the foundation upon which we build our hope. So when trust is destroyed, hope often follows close behind.

Judy and I know how hard it is to build that trust again. After all, trust is usually built upon experiences we’ve already encountered. The death of a child can easily destroy or skew our trust level. Please know, this is a normal part of the grieving process. We also want you to know, that trust will return with time. Remember, the grief journey is a   l-o-n-g   journey. There are no shortcuts.

We want to end this blog by sharing two verses from the Bible that have helped us in our grief journey. We trust they will help you find hope again. When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consulation brought joy to my soul.” (Psalm 94:18&19 NIV)

In your pain, please call out to God. He WILL hear your cry and come. God bless, and remember, we love you guys. Pat & Judy

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse. The stockings were hung…” “The stockings were hung…” This traditional Christmas poem can cause a family that has lost a child to stop in their tracks as they read it because it leads to a question they will have to answer, “Do we hang the Christmas stocking of our child who has died just like we always did?” It was a question we had to answer after Mickey died. We decided that we would always hang Mickey’s stocking with all the rest because Mickey was still our child, and she would always be part of our Christmas celebrations.

For a family that has had a child die there are so many questions and emotions that they have to answer at Christmas time. Questions that nobody who hasn’t lost a child would even think about.

Judy and I would like to help those of you who have lost a child deal with your emotions today by letting you read the story of another family and the issues they deal with yet today. We recently received a donation in memory of Ethan Schultz, along with some thoughts from his mother and father as they remember this little boy. Nick and Staci have graciously agreed to allow us to share excerpts from  their story with you today. We trust it will help those of you who are grieving today.

Staci talking: I’ve spent some time in the last few weeks thinking about Ethan, more than I usually do, because of his upcoming birthday. Every year as November 30th comes near, I find myself wondering what Ethan would be like if he were here today. I wonder what he would look like, I wonder about the hilarious things he would say, if he would like wrestling with his dad as much as his younger brothers, and I wonder about heaven and how glorious it must be for our son.
And as I think about these things, I, of course, feel sad. I am sad because I have not planned a birthday party for Ethan. I didn’t make him a special cake, buy balloons, or wrap presents. And today, rather than watching my son blow out his birthday candles, I will be visiting his grave and left wondering what he might be like, if he had lived.
We’d like to tell you the story of Ethan’s life today. His story is sad and it is painful for us to share. But we’re not sharing for your sympathy or to gain your pity. Ethan’s life is so much more than just another sad story. It is a message of God’s salvation. It is a message of peace when there should have been turmoil, and a message of hope when there should have been despair.

Nick Talking: Five years ago today Ethan entered the world at noon. That Sunday morning was a lot like today. I was supposed to sing on worship team that Sunday morning, but… For the first 8 hours all was right and just as it should be. Ethan was a beautiful boy. He and I even watched a little football as Staci napped in the afternoon. It was that evening, however, that we learned that Ethan was not as healthy as we hoped. To give you the short version: after a helicopter ride to St. Cloud and then another to the Fairview Riverside Hospital in the Twin Cities, after two sleepless nights of waiting, tests, tons of medication and numerous failed attempts to improve Ethan’s health, we learned that he had a severe brain malformation that would cause respiratory failure and eventually take his life. It was only a matter of time. On December 2nd, Staci and I made a choice that no parents should ever have to make, the choice to remove life support from our precious son. Ethan’s heart beat for the last time in our arms at 8 p.m. on a Tuesday night, 2 days after he was born. Though this is a sad story, and though we have grieved greatly because of it, we are not standing up here to share just another sad story. We, I, am here to tell you about a PEACE when there shouldn’t be peace, and a HOPE when all seems lost.
The peace I want to share with you comes from none other than Jesus Christ. That peace was evident in the last hours before our son’s death. After learning about Ethan’s terminal condition and learning that it was something he wouldn’t recover from, we were presented with one real option. Ethan would die. From 4 in the afternoon until 7:30 on that Tuesday, Staci and I had time to “prepare” ourselves for what was to come. As our families went in and said “goodbye” to Ethan, we sat out in a waiting room and wept. Soon it was our turn. We walked into a quiet room where only Ethan and 2 nurses waited for us. The nurses removed the machines that were keeping Ethan alive, and we held him for the last time. It was during this time that we experienced the Peace of God like we had never experienced it before. It washed over us like a flood. We learned during the last half hour of Ethan’s life what true Peace really is. Peace is not the absence of pain or grief, it is the absence of turmoil and fear in the MIDST of the pain. Staci and I experienced peace in a hospital room that night as Jesus gifted it to us. Jesus Christ held us in His arms as He welcomed Ethan home. He prompted us to sing praises to Him as we held our son for the last time. We couldn’t help but sing “Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus.” We sang “Jesus Loves Me.” We did not fear the unknown about our son’s destiny. We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Christ’s death and resurrection secured Ethan’s place in heaven. Because of Christ’s sacrifice, we were able to peacefully give our son back to his Creator that night.
My understanding of peace is much different than it was before Ethan’s life and death. I believe that the only time we can experience true peace is when we are hurting or struggling or our life is in shambles because it is then that we cry out to God in brokenness and He hears our cry. He sustains us in our darkest hour. He sustained us in our darkest hour. Praise God for His peace that is greater than our understanding!
Staci Talking: Five years later I stand before you a changed and humbled woman. But I am also a loved woman. Yes, I walked through that valley of the shadow of death but I was never once alone. My God held me in his right hand, He held me fast. He ministered to my breaking heart before Ethan was born, during the fight for his life, and in the months of raw grief that followed. God gave me hope. The hope our Savior gives is not just wishful thinking, like, “I hope I get that scarf for Christmas this year.” The hope I have, the hope the Bible talks about, the hope God gives, is an expectant hope of what will surely come. I know my son is in heaven. I know my son lives. I know he is whole and that he is well. And I know that I will be made whole as he is when my time on earth is done.
When I was holding Ethan for the last time one of his eye lids slightly opened. I saw my reflection in his eye. My first thought was that was it. The last time this little one will hold my reflection in his eye. Then God spoke, the quiet way he does, and assured me that Jesus is now the reflection in his eye. Heaven is his reflection. What a gift that was. What hope I have!
God reminded me of my eternity again just a few weeks ago. I believe it was a gift just in time for Ethan’s birthday. My sister introduced me to a woman she knows from her Bible Study Fellowship Leader’s group in Brainerd. My sister shared with her that I am expecting my fourth boy in January. (Praise God!) The woman then asked me the ages of my other 3 sons. I gave the run down and told her my oldest would have been 5 in a couple of weeks and that he died when he was two days old. She paused and asked if she could share something with me. She then proceeded to tell me that her mother lost her 4th child (of 8!) when he was just a day old. Her mother has passed away and she was with her when she died. As her mother took her last breaths she whispered that son’s name, whom she lost so long ago, and said, “Thank you for coming for me!” Oh how I long for this moment! In my mind I hold on to the picture of my son running into my arms on that day, leaping and praising God, showing me His new body, saying, “Mama, I am healed! I am healed!”
We know that we are not alone. We know that many of you have experienced pain. You have experienced great loss and disappointment. You may even be disappointed with God. I was disappointed with God for such a long time. Disappointed that he didn’t heal my son, disappointed that Ethan had to die to fulfill some greater purpose, disappointed that this was the “good” God was working out in my life! But God continually whispers to me, “Staci, I love you and nothing can separate you from my love. I was there with you when he died. I wept with you. I know your pain. Staci, this life is a vapor. This pales in comparison to what you have with me, with eternal life.”
We have much to celebrate today! Much to be thankful for! Jesus Lives! Our God, the God of all comfort, gave us peace when there should have been turmoil, hope when there should have been despair, and joy when there should have been none.”

Judy and I trust that this story of hope and encouragement will help those of you who may not be as far down your grief journey as they are. You might not be able to thank God today for what you’ve experienced. You may not be able to feel joyful, or peaceful. Judy and I want you to know that everyone’s grief journey is different. What we hope and pray for is that you will find peace this Christmas day, and that healing will continue in your life.

We love you guys. Remember, if you know of another family that is going through Christmas without their child, please, please reach out to them with a word of encouragement. God bless. Pat & Judy

Hi Everyone,
It’s snowing outside and our lake is freezing over. It shouldn’t be too long before we’ll be able to sit on the ice and do some fishing. But right now the wing is blowing and the snow is falling.
This week is a special one for us as we’ll have our children, grandchildren, and extended family together for Thanksgiving. And as we come together we’ll remember our daughter Mickey who has been missing from our Thanksgiving celebrations for 22 years now.
Judy and I wanted to blog today to encourage those of you who may have lost a child in the past year or two. We know that holidays, like Thanksgiving where families tend to come together and celebrate, can be a devastating time of emotional ups and downs followed by depression and despair.
We know it’s incredibly hard to get together and realize there is one seat that is empty, or one voice that is silent. In moments like those, it can be hard to be thankful It can even be hard to be around people we love.
Please know that all your emotions and struggles are normal. You may feel like you’re going crazy – you’re not. You may find that you want to be alone, that’s normal. But we would like to encourage you to take some baby-steps toward healthy grieving by being together with people who love you. Even though it may seem like a struggle just to get dressed, please give it a try. Even though it will be painful to watch other people who are happy and laughing, it is part of the healing process.
It’s possible that you are reading this blog even though you have not lost a child yourself, but you know someone who has. We would like to encourage you to reach out in gentle love and support to that person who is suffering right now. You may want to stop right now and give them a phone call. Or you may want to ask them out for a meal with you. One thing we know for sure, you’ll need to make the first move as your friend probably won’t call you. And don’t be surprised if your friend turns you down, grief can do that to a person. But don’t stop reaching out. And by all means, DO mention their child by name, and the fact that you remember them.
Gentle compassion can wipe away a flood of tears. Please allow yourself to be that avenue of compassion to someone in need this Thanksgiving week.
God bless everyone! We love you guys. Pat & Judy

Hi Everyone,

When I was a teen the “war” in Vietnam was in full swing. I put the word war in parenthesis because it didn’t really seem as though our leaders really wanted to win the war, just prolong it.

It was a time when many of us grew up when we saw friends from our neighborhood leave for this war, only to die there and come home in a coffin. So it was for Danny Murphy. He was actually a friend of my brother’s, being five years older than me. But I knew him. I had heard his laughter, and listened to his stories. So when we heard that he had been killed in Vietnam it was a stunning reminder that freedom comes at an incredible price.

For many years I wondered what it had been like for Danny’s mom after he died. I had seen her a few times after his death and she always looked sad. Losing a child will do that to a mom or dad. As a young teen, I didn’t really know what suffering the loss of a child could feel like.

I felt compelled today to simply write a short blog and to say thank you to Danny and all the men and women since then who have fought and died for my freedom. We owe a debt to each one of them, and to their moms and dads who have suffered incredible pain as a result of their sacrifice. If you know of a family who has lost a loved one to war, please take a moment to drop them a note, or a phone call, or an email, telling them you’re remembering their child’s death and thanking God for their sacrifice. God bless, and remember, Judy and I love you guys.

Hi Everyone,

Greetings from the north woods. Judy and I have been busy with guests this past summer. But now it’s time for us to remember.

Twenty-two years ago this month we found our daughter Mickey unconscious in our home’s bathtub. As you know if you’ve been checking out our site in the past, Mickey had suffered a cardiac arrest and would linger in a coma for 38 days before dying.

What I think has caught Judy and me by surprise this year is the amount of emotions we are feeling. Both of us are a bit staggered by feelings of loss and sadness. I don’t really know why we’re surprised, since we tell people we work with that this is a pretty common event in the lives of moms and dads who have lost a child. But, as with those of you who have lost a child already know, we just can’t prepare ourselves for those moments when grief can just overwhelm us. I think Judy and I have come to the conclusion that with all the people we’ve been counseling this summer, we are feeling some affects of that in our own lives.

It has been encouraging to be meeting with guests this summer. We’ve shed tears as we’ve heard about children lost due to illness, accidents and suicide. Each child’s story is tragic. And each parent’s heart is torn apart by grief. We are privileged to see people begin to take steps toward healthy grieving. Although we know we are just a part of these people’s journey through grief, it is rewarding to see them begin to smile again.

We want to thank each of you who have already been supportive of our efforts. Please, tell your friends about SAM. If you know of someone who has lost a child, help them to make that call to us. We stand ready to help. God bless, and remember, we love you guys. Pat & Judy

Friends,

Imagine if you can, sitting at the bedside of your 22 year old son as his two year struggle against cancer comes to an end. All the chemo and all the radiation couldn’t stop the ravages of cancer. In a heartbeat your son breathes his last breath and enters eternity. Because family has come from far away the funeral is held on a Sunday.

Those of us who have had a child die know what that moment is like. Our entire world collapses. Shock overtakes us and an emptiness that seems bottomless fills our emotions. And even though hundreds of people have come to the funeral, it’s impossible to focus on living.

But now imagine this! Imagine that you know that in just six day the 19 year old sister of this 22 year old son will be getting married. And you are the mom and dad who have to shift emotions from total devastation to outward expressions of joy and happiness. All within a six day timeframe.

That is what friends of ours experienced just last week. For two years they had watched their son fight a battle for which the outcome had been predicted. But he fought anyway, and he fought well.

In the midst of this life and death struggle, love was blossoming in their daughter’s life and a proposal was followed by wedding plans and a wedding date. And let me say right here, the wedding was beautiful, and mom and dad were incredible as they watched their little girl say, “I do,” last Saturday. Surrounded by many of the same friends and family members that had been at her brother’s funeral just days before, this young woman and her husband began a new life filled with hopes and dreams and love.

What an incredible picture of the life and death struggle all of us face sooner or later. Weddings and new births are celebrated – as they should be. Families grow, careers flourish, and plans are made for the future.

But the death of a child stops us in our tracks. There is something very abnormal about such a death. A boy who will never marry. A girl who will never hold her own child.

I guess I’m just rambling today because Alex’s death and Emi’s marriage have simply stopped me in my tracks and reminded me that life is precious, and so are the moments we get to spend with our kids. Don’t waste a single minute. Embrace and love and laugh and cry every chance you get. God bless. Pat & Judy

Hi Everyone,

Judy and I want to share some tragic and exciting news. Nearly seven weeks ago we found out that the baby our son and daughter-in-law are expecting in July would have a profound birth defect called encephalecele. It is a defect in which the brain actually grows outside of the skull. A neurosurgeon who reviewed the ultrasounds of our granddaughter told our son and daughter-in-law that if their baby girl did live to term she would probably die soon after birth. Naturally, we were devastated by the news.

After learning about the news our son’s six year old daughter Maddie asked her mom why the baby had to die and go to heaven? Our daughter-in-law told Maddie that “the baby has a bad owie and Jesus was going to take her to heaven so he could take care of her.” We thought that was a great answer. But Maddie had one more question, “If Jesus is so powerful, why can’t he just fix the baby now so we can take care of her here?” Hmmmmmm.

Now the exciting news. Six weeks after doctors had told our son and daughter-in-law to prepare for the worst another ultrasound revealed a stunning change. I’ll let my daughter-in-law’s own words tell you this part of the story: I am in shock!!! I can’t even think to write this email, BUT our baby is expected to have full survival! The neurosurgeon was able to look at the new images and the encephalecele is mostly fluid. There is some brain tissue in the encephalecele but the brain has all the necessary parts intact. I don’t know what to say, but the first pictures at 21 weeks and now the 27 week pictures are different. The encephalecele tissue is MUCH smaller??? I will still be delivering at Children’s hospital and they will give the baby time to get used to living outside the womb and to eat, poop, etc. Then they will perform surgery to remove the encephalecele. We can expect the baby to be in the NICU for a few weeks and then bring her home. So they gave us a range of a prognosis. The baby is still at high risk to have some cognitive delays. But the range is full cognitive abilities (normal baby) to severe delays. We won’t know until the baby is growing and if she is or isn’t meeting normal milestones.”

We are calling this amazing turn-around, “Maddie’s Miracle.” As you can see, there are still no assurances that everything will be okay, but our granddaughter’s chance of living a normal life went from no chance, to every chance. If you are a person of faith, we would ask you to pray that our granddaughter would be born without any brain damage. She is expected to be born in July.

What a great way to start our week. We want to thank all of you for your support and encouragement. Once again we have been personally reminded how fragile life is, and that in a moment everything can change. Gotta run. We love you guys. God bless – Pat & Judy

Hi Everyone,

Well, Judy and I are pretty excited as we celebrate Smile Again Ministries 3rd birthday. It’s hard to believe that just three years ago Judy and I were at the State capitol here in Minnesota receiving our incorporation papers for SAM.

Now, just three years later we are sitting on Pickerel Lake near Crosslake, MN and Whitetail Lodge is ready to go. It has been quite a journey of faith, sometimes frustration, and fulfillment.

As we talk with people about our journey we can’t help but smile when their mouths drop as we tell them about miracle after miracle.

Imagine looking for land and a building that could be used for our retreat center knowing that we don’t have any money in hand. We only knew one thing for sure, we wanted to be on a lake for the relaxation factor for our guests, and

This is how Whitetail Lodge looked before we began remodeling.

to have room where guests could walk without a lot of distractions. After looking at several properties we found 15 acres of land on Pickerel Lake, with 750 feet of lakeshore. Along with the land was a beautiful building that had a completely empty space where we could begin remodeling for what has become Whitetail Lodge. Oh, did we mention we didn’t have any money when we began our search for the land? But thanks to the faithful donations of friends and strangers we were able to purchase the land (with a mortgage of course) in September of 2008.

Once on site Judy and I began landscaping around the building. A woman in the Brainerd area found out about SAM and donated thousands of dollars worth of perennial plants for what has become our Peace Garden. Volunteers spent a very L-O-N-G October day planting all the plants while a cool drizzle fell. Judy was concerned about whether the plants would survive the harsh winter here, and how many of the plants would actually come up in the Spring. Well, every plant came up in the Spring! Hostas, lillies, irises, ferns, bamboo, hens and chicks, peony bushes, hydrangia, and a flowering crab tree next to the waterfall that Pat built – just to name a few.

This is now the living room and kitchen area of Whitetail Lodge.

Along the way Judy and I have spent countless hours fund raising (our least favorite part of SAM). We have had so many people help in fund raising events, and small intimate get-togethers with potential donors. Many people have become monthly donors to SAM – and to be honest, without this foundation of donors SAM wouldn’t exist today.

Next came the remodel of our building in what we now call Whitetail Lodge. This was another moment where we didn’t know “how” it could be done with the little resources we had in hand at that point. But once again, God moved, and a contractor named Gene White from Verndale, MN volunteered to oversee and work on the remodel at no cost to SAM. Gene, and one of his employees named Bobby Vry, spent weeks and weeks during the summer of 2009 working and overseeing volunteers who came to help them. Another issue in the remodel was wood products for the walls and floors. Yet another man, who happens to be a logger, and his wife heard about SAM and  donated ALL the wood we needed for the walls, ceilings and floors of Whitetail Lodge. Volunteers came in to paint and stain. Women from around the State created beautiful quilts for the beds in the lodge. Two different people held toy showers to furnish the enclosed play area where smaller children can play while here. Every picture in the lodge, and there are many, has been donated.

Pat and Judy sit next to the waterfall in the Peace Garden.

But not everything has been a walk in the park. We had to deal with a planning and zoing issue that threatened to stop our opening. Yet, once again, after working through many, many details SAM’s application for our conditional use permit was approved.

Judy and I have also met with representatives from the four major children’s hospitals in the Twin Cities area, as well as many funeral directors and hospice care-givers. Obviously, these are key people in referring hurting moms and dads to SAM.

Now the doors of Whitetail Lodge are open. We have families signed up to come in June, and are doing all we can to get the word out regarding openings for families to come. Remember, if you have a friend or acquaintance that has lost a child we would encourage you to mention SAM to them. Help them contact us. The first call for help is often the hardest to make.

Judy and I want to specifically thank the many, many volunteers who have worked so hard to help make SAM the reality it is today. What was once a dream is now a reality. Moms and dads and surviving siblings are being helped because so many of you have joined our team. So on our third birthday, Judy and I want to send a heartfelt thank you to everyone who stands with us in helping hurting people. Your compassion IS making a difference in the lives of hurting people.

Well, that’s it for today. Remember, Judy and I love you guys.