How We Muddle Through…

Written by Hollye Dexter

July 8, 2010

When we got the news about our dear friend Greg passing, we were in a hotel room alongside the Merced river, about to head home in hours of holiday weekend traffic. With our spirits broken, we just couldn’t face the long grueling drive, so we decided to stay in Yosemite for one more day. For Troy and I, our church has always been nature. This is where we feel closest to creation and the creator, and where we wanted to be when mourning our friend.
We took a day trip, 8000 feet in elevation, into high country. It seemed closer to Heaven, the right place to say goodbye. At times we drove in silence, but it was tough with our four-year-old Evan bouncing around in the back, singing loudly, asking questions, reciting the Korean alphabet over and over (his newest obsession).
We thought of Greg as we drove through canyons, past countless waterfalls, through meadows with grazing deer, around pristine cobalt blue lakes, through patches of snow nestled between tall shady pines. So much beauty, and yet life is always hanging  precariously. The forest will be taken by wildfire, the deer by a predator. So many questions crowded my mind. Such senseless heartache. What reason could there possibly be for this loss? Greg was young, healthy, and dropped dead suddenly of a heart attack. How could this be? At times, I’d look over at Troy and see a tear streaming down the side of his face as he drove, and all the while Evan was singing the Bob Marley song…Don’t worry…bout a thing…every little thing…gonna be alright…
Our best friends Erin and Beth met us at the top, with their four-year-old Ben. We ventured out on a hike into a landscape so gorgeous it may be what Heaven is actually modeled after. The Toulumne meadow stretches on forever, a blanket of green-gold grasses dotted with wildflowers, ribboned with rivers, streams and mineral springs. Evan and Ben skipped through the meadow, over bridges and streams, laughing and playing tag. At any moment you expected to find Julie Andrews spinning in place and singing. All this and yet so heavy our hearts.
It is said that prayer is talking and meditation is listening. I tried to do a lot of listening in this country. I listened as we watched a herd of deer in the center of the meadow, the bucks standing watch as the does and fawns grazed. I listened as we stood ten feet away from a brown bear, who looked up to acknowledge our presence, but peacefully went about his business eating plants and berries, allowing us to sit close and observe him. I listened, and I wondered how the world could be so heartbreakingly beautiful and yet so cruel. But this is nature – pristine, perfect in its design, and absolutely cruel.
I have no answers, only endless questions. All I know is that life is a miracle, and it can also be a nightmare. It is a gift that will one day be snatched away. It is Heaven and it is Hell, and we’re here to experience it all. And I’m reminded that we are definitely on borrowed time, so there’s no use putting things off until “one day”. One thing Troy said that brought me to tears, and does even typing it now…he said Greg died with so much music still in him, dreams he never saw fulfilled. That crushed me.
After a long hike, we began our descent back to the Yosemite Valley. We were quiet and contemplative in the car, but our four year old was not. He’s on a new kick with knock-knock jokes. For forty minutes we endured this:
Evan: Knock-knock!
Me: Who’s there?
Evan: Interrupting chicken!
Me: Interrupt…
Evan: BOK!!!
And it went on with a litany of other interrupting animals; cows, pigs, snakes, parrots…until finally I told him we needed to take a little break so Daddy and I could have some quiet time. At only four years old, he had no idea what we were dealing with, nor should he have to.
Troy and I discussed Greg’s life, asked the questions aloud. How could this happen? What kind of a God allows this? Why always the good ones? All the questions you ask in a horrific circumstance like this.
Evan: Excuse me Mommy.
Me: Not now Evan….
We continued to talk about Greg’s life, what a sweet soul he was. We grieved for his young son, and his wife.
Evan: Excuuuuuse me….Mommy I want to tell you something…
Me: Please don’t interrupt Evan.
We went on. I started to cry when I talked about how unique Greg was, how positive and kind he was. Troy and I talked about how Greg always made you feel lifted…
Me: (A little annoyed now) What is it Evan?
I whipped my head around to look at him. He was sitting in his car seat, with his huge blue eyes and a sweet expression.
Evan: Mommy, I will lift you up.
Of course this left us both speechless. I paused, and put my hand on his cheek.
Me: You are my sweet angel. I love you. Thank you for saying that.
Evan: I love you, too.
He smiled sweetly, kicking his little legs back and forth. I wiped my eyes and thanked God for my blessings.
Evan: And Mommy?
Me: Yes, my love?
And that’s how we muddle through. Life simply goes on…

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  1. amy ferris

    oh my god so absolutely perfectly gorgeous.
    i love you hollye.

  2. Anonymous

    Knock Knock….you got it!!

    Evan is the shining light for you and Troy
    Hopefully in time Melanie can see the light in her child also.

    Children are so aware of parents emotions. They do not need to know facts at this young age but it might be time for all to learn a new lesson on being aware of ALL around you when there is such loss.
    You and Troy and Melanie cannot and should not hold back your emotions but be aware of the little minds around you.
    No, I am not a parent, that gift did not happen for us, but as a teacher for 25+ years and losing two student parents on Sept. 11. and 16 friends losing husbands and fathers the time came for how to explain to children death. Most parents avoid the issue thinking that they are too young to understand. Religion can come into play that does not work well for all but trust me children know something is up. Their innocence and little minds can lead them to believe they did something wrong. Email me and we can chat if you would like.
    The little program I put together for some of the parents and children worked wonders and finally I must admit the school system realized that they had to listen to what I was saying because the children were so puzzled. It took the School System three years to put a PC program together because of politics,etc. which was so unnecessary and way too late for some.
    Sending again my deepest Sympathy to all. Life is a mystery and yes we do look for answers , as I mentioned in my email to you, it is human nature. Sometimes there are no answers and our minds play games with facts and realities. Keep that inner peace from God's Country within you both and you will find comfort, in time, in having Greg in your lives then and now. xoxo

  3. Anonymous

    Goosebumps, tears, laughter … the whole spectrum, girl, just like this amazing, confusing, mysterious life! Oh, the awesome beauty, oh, the sometimes paralyzing heartache. Why does it have to be like this? So many questions, so few answers … Gorgeous post, love it! And, god, do I love that kid of yours. A wise old soul born into the perfect family. xox

  4. matters that matter

    Exquisite. The way you honored your friend and your own grief. I am sure you will treasure the time you spent with him and the time you took to celebrate him. He was a blessed man to have friends like you.

  5. Anonymous

    This is just as I would expect you to handle things from reading your blog. A beautiful tribute to your friend. Love little Evan-kids say the most amazing things. I had some of the same thoughts when my best friend died after 42 years of friendship. Heartbreaking beautiful. Thanks Hollye.

  6. Anonymous


    I sent you a response to your blogger post but I have no idea where it went. Thanks for the comments. email me at madge@thenextfamily. We are alike I think that is why I noticed and loved your stories.

  7. GuacamoleGirl

    All your posts touch me Hollye but this one brought a flood of tears… Hug that little baby angel for me, will you?


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