The other day, when I was reading my Bible (I don’t remember the passage or why it made me think this), the thought struck me that the Father knew the pain of knowing that His Son Jesus would never walk the earth again in the same way.
Oh, yes, He is alive forevermore and being with Him in Paradise to Infinity & Beyond forevermore will be amazing. But it will not ever be the same as it was when Jesus was walking on this earth–God & Man in One.
That thought somehow brought me comfort in knowing that the Father understands my pain in knowing that AnnaLeah and Mary will never walk this earth again with us in the same way.
And then, just this morning, I looked up Andrew Peterson’s song,After the Last Tear Falls, and as he introduced the song, he talked about how God is “familiar with our sorrow.” He sees the brokenness in our world. He cares. And in the midst of all this grief, He has also given us beauty to treasure. And there is Love.
Mary & AnnaLeah loved to laugh and make-believe. These photos tell the story of Mary’s adventure with Bear, the sudden end to their earthly life, the balloons we let go to remember that, though we would not see them anymore here in this life, we will someday joyfully be with them again, and then the balloons we would a year later let go–but which decided to stick around while we tended to the girls’ grave, playing peek-a-boo in the trees. It’s all true.(Photos by Marianne Karth with some photos by The Karths–Sam & Naomi. Amazing Grace sung by their Grandpa Jim Waldron, and Children of the Heavenly Father sung by their sisters, Rebekah & Susanna)
I don’t really need to write about this. I should just have a stiff upper lip and all that. But there are still so many moments when I am caught unawares and the grief takes over.
Like tonight. . . my grandson was watching a Rhett & Link Youtube video and mentioned something about “Grandma watches them.” Well, I had told him about them–showed him one of their videos a few months ago and got him started watching, I guess.
But then, I started to explain how they had moved from North Carolina to California about. . . and then I stopped to think how long ago it was and I figured it in “Before/After the crash” “when AnnaLeah and Mary were still here” time units, and I realized that it had probably been about two and one-half years ago–the crash being two years ago and Rhett & Link’s move about 6 months before that.
When AnnaLeah and Mary and their brother and I would watch the new episode every week together on the computer in the dining room. And laugh. Seems like just yesterday yet foreverago. And nevermore.
But not anymore. I don’t watch it anymore. I don’t know why. Some things are just too hard.
That’s all. I can’t begin to describe how it feels so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.
My husband has found himself–more than once–looking for a new job due to the economy. We have had to live apart for months at a time while he did contract work in another state, make moves across the country to start over (including selling houses while living apart), worry about the possibility of losing a house, learn how to gracefully be in the position of needing to trust the Lord to take care of all of our needs, and watch our nine children grow and deal with various stages of struggling to obtaining a living wage (including some with disabilities).
Don’t look at the waves; He can sustain you no matter what you are going through. Live. Love. Laugh. Whatever the circumstances. Each day. Pack up your troubles. . .
But, if I could pick my troubles, I would go through those struggles all over again rather than face a lifetime without AnnaLeah and Mary. There are usually alternative solutions and creative ways to survive life’s challenges. Nothing, however, can fix unexpected and irrevocable death due to a preventable crash.
So full of life, snatched from us without any warning. . .
Published on Jul 26, 2013
When we got back home after the crash and were looking through our photo and video files, we found some short video clips of a short story which AnnaLeah had apparently written and which she narrated as Mary acted it out and Susanna filmed it with her digital camera in our backyard in Midland, Texas (circa 2009).
Published on Dec 24, 2013
When Mary was very young, we used to call her www.mlk (wonderful wiggly worm mary lydia karth). She was full of energy and very expressive. It didn’t take much for her to make us laugh or smile.
This two-minute video, where we were packing up to go home after a summer vacation, was one of those times where she amused her older brother without even trying.
Published on Sep 5, 2013
My Favorite Present…Catch a glimpse of AnnaLeah and Mary as they enjoy watching Vanessa open her 3 year-old birthday presents…including books from AnnaLeah (of course!) and an empty plastic Pooh Bear honey jar which Mary had saved for months (knowing Vanessa would like it). Simple things, simply joy…
Published on Oct 27, 2013
Getting our house ready to sell took a lot of work. One day, AnnaLeah worked very hard to trim the new blinds throughout the house (with the help of Jerry & Levi). Mary’s job was to have fun and entertain the rest of us!
Published on Dec 21, 2013
Short video clips of Mary as a Christmas angel in about 2003…in this one she is singing, “Jesus is the Heart of Christmas.”
Published on Dec 21, 2013
Short video clips of Mary as a Christmas angel in about 2003…in this one she asks, “Are we done yet?”
Published on Dec 21, 2013
Short video clips of Mary as a Christmas angel in about 2003…in this one she is a tired angel and counts on her big brother Angel Levi.
Published on Dec 21, 2013
Short video clips of Mary as a Christmas angel in about 2003…in this one she is glad that the program is finally over: Joy to the World!
Published on Nov 20, 2013
Mary and Susanna were in Midland Community Theater’s 2009 production of A Christmas Carol. They had a wonderful time and made lots of friends. This video includes scenes in which Mary participated–and some with Susanna as the blind man’s companion and in the ensemble, as well. Look for Mary’s long, flowing hair and a blue head wrap/scarf…doing a circle dance, as an angel singing…in the crowd of people…Video begins with photos of Mary & Susanna in costume so you can recognize them in the scenes.
Published on Oct 29, 2013
AnnaLeah Builds Her Hobbit Orphanage
AnnaLeah and Levi joined other youth from Grace Lutheran in Midland, Texas, in a servant event. Under the direction of DCE Eaton they thought that they were going to build a storage shed at Camp Lone Star in 2010. AnnaLeah knew that it was really an orphanage for hobbits! See them hard at work in this fast-action short video…
Published on Nov 27, 2013
When I was pregnant with my first baby, I didn’t like the idea of “Rock-a-Bye, Baby” with its line of “Down will come baby…” So I made my own version: “Snuggle now, baby, in Jesus’ arms”…remember AnnaLeah and Mary as smiling and laughing—in this life they had here and imagine them dancing on the streets of pure gold.
Published on Dec 22, 2013
AnnaLeah was 6 & Mary was 2, and they were both water bugs! Our family enjoyed a quiet vacation at a cottage overlooking Lake Michigan.
“Published on Sep 18, 2013
AnnaLeah and Mary participated in Vacation Bible School for many years in Michigan and later in Texas. As they got older, they began helping out in various capacities. The younger kids loved them! When Mary was about 4, she became the mascot for the Construction, INC VBS (Construction In the Name of Christ) and dressed up as Rick the Brick! Here you will see her as Rick the Brick at the beginning and end of the song by that same title. In between, there are just lots of photos of Mary enjoying life and participating in it fully.”
I have not read Susanna Clarke’s book, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. But AnnaLeah did. And she staged a photoshoot–portraying Mary reading through the book with various emotions passing across her face as she made her way through the book.
Today, I am getting ready to watch the mini-series based on the book with other members of my family. No matter how good it is or isn’t, it feels like AnnaLeah and Mary were somehow cheated of the opportunity to watch it. For no good reason.
But I am determined to watch it with an open heart and mind–even though it has to be without them. I imagine that AnnaLeah would prefer it that way.
(Note: Mary had not read the book yet at the time of this photoshoot.)
Remembering AnnaLeah and Mary Lydia Karth two years after their second funeral in Grand Rapids, Michigan–where they spent the first half of their lives–on June 8, 2013 (the first being in Midland, Texas on May 18, 2013). A truck crash ended the chance for AnnaLeah and Mary to make new memories. But it cannot take away our memories of them.
In this video, our pastor shares his perceptions of AnnaLeah and Mary as he had come to know them in the months before those memory-making opportunities came to an end–shared with our family and friends as we said a final farewell here on earth to Mary and AnnaLeah.
Photos and video clips of Mary & AnnaLeah accompany the sermon at Mt. Olive Lutheran Church by Pastor John Drosendahl from North Carolina, who would have been confirming Mary in late May or early June. It ends with a video clip of AnnaLeah at her confirmation on December 28, 2008, confessing her faith, “…and I believe that I, and all true believers, will one day join Him in heaven.”
Hardly a day goes by without everyday occurrences bringing AnnaLeah and Mary to mind. Take yesterday for example. . . We went rock hunting at an “emerald mine” in North Carolina. It was great fun and I might have even found a small emerald in the rough. I had the advantage of having done that sort of mining in a sluice before as a teenager when I found a ruby (now in my ring) in Cowee Valley, North Carolina.
Yesterday’s experience reminded me of the time our family (with only the youngest AnnaLeah, Caleb, & Mary still living at home) went agate hunting in Minnesota in the Fall of 2012–not too long before we lost Mary and AnnaLeah in May 2013. They had humored me and spent Sunday afternoon doing rock hunting with me on Lake Pepin because it was something I had done as a child and hadn’t done in years. I am so glad I have those memories.
Mary, for some reason, always had to take a photo when she found a dead animal on the ground. In fact, that is how she found the Beanie Baby bear on the shores of Lake Michigan–looking for a dead fish that had been washed up on the shore. (https://annaleahmary.com/bears-adventure-with-mary/ )
Memories of times gone by, of experiences shared, of expressions and habits and unique characteristics of those we have come to know and love. . . those can never be taken away from us. Though thoughts of Mary and AnnaLeah may stir up bittersweet feelings, I am grateful for their place in my heart and for the opportunity they had to live–here on earth and forever.
AnnaLeah and Mary spent the first half of their lives growing up in West Michigan. They spent the second half in West Texas. Because of the many people who knew our family, we had decided to have two funerals–the first on May 18, 2013, in Midland, Texas, and the second on June 8, 2013, in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
We are immeasurably grateful for the support of countless people across the country who helped make these arrangements possible for our family and shared with us in this very difficult time of our lives.
So, you know, this spring I had a grand idea of planting a sunflower & morning glory house. Plant the sunflowers in a rectangle & then plant the morning glory seeds so that they can climb up those tall, sturdy sunflower stems. Marcus and Vanessa helped me plant the seeds. http://articles.latimes.com/1998/jul/25/home/hm-6860
Mary at 2 by a sunflower watching Gertie
It was going well. The sunflowers had started to grow and had reached a second level of leaves. So, I had planted the morning glories and they, too, started to sprout. Then, yesterday, I went to check on them and some creature had decided to feast upon the sunflower leaves. Almost all of them.
A sunflower seed made it through the germination phase.
Some creature nibbled away on this fragile seedling– and left the morning glories to fend for themselves.
Okay, I had tried growing one of these years ago without success–due to picking a too-shady garden plot. I wasn’t really surprised or devastated that it wasn’t going how I had hoped. But, this time, the bad news came after days and days of remembering our loss of AnnaLeah and Mary. And it was AnnaLeah’s birthday. . .
After my discovery, I just couldn’t seem to hold it together anymore. My eyes became leaky and I had to work extra hard to distract myself. It wasn’t just a sabotaged sunflower house; it was a symbol of our greater loss–over which I had no control and which I could do nothing to prevent or fix.
(Did you have to remind me of those convoluted truck safety issues which just don’t seem to get resolved –caught up in an endless political process and too-often getting set aside for “more important” matters, as if those 4,000 deaths–on average every year–which lead to pain-without-end are meaningless?)
Fast forward to this morning early–when I could not get back to sleep–when I realized another distressing fact: now I have planted a garden of healthy morning glories (well, until they too might get eaten), whose very destiny was to climb but who will have nothing to climb upon. What have I done?
And how well I can relate (this mother of nine with two who are no more). . .
“Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing?
Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Young girls have picked them every one.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?”
Where have all the loved ones gone, long time passing?
Where have all the loved ones gone, long time ago?
Where have all the loved ones gone?
Truck crashes took them every one.
Oh, when will we ever learn?
Oh, when will we ever learn?
Of course, writing about it does not change anything. But the words bring a measure of healing.
Today is the day that AnnaLeah was born 20 years ago. Though she only lived 17 years (almost 18), she filled her time with imaginative & colorful activities and endeavors. Time well-spent.
AnnaLeah had a personal collection of over 600 books–most of which she had read. And she loved to create and share imaginative worlds with words. A wordsmith. . . Here is a poem she wrote when she was 12:
AnnaLeah enjoyed the books of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, and I am sure that she would have loved to live at the time when The Inklings met in England to discuss the sorts of things she thrived on. So, when I recently read A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, I couldn’t help but think of AnnaLeah.
Here are some excerpts from that book which especially resonated with me:
You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn’t you then first discover how much you really trusted it? (pp. 22-23)
It is hard to have patience with people who say, ‘There is no death’ or ‘Death doesn’t matter.’ There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn’t matter. I look up at the night sky. Is anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch? She died. She is dead. Is the word so difficult to learn? (p. 15)
Kind people have said to me, ‘She is with God.’ In one sense that is most certain. . . But I find that this question, however important it may be in itself, is not after all very important in relation to grief. . . You tell me, ‘she goes on.’ But my heart and body are crying out, come back, come back. Be a circle, touching my circle on the plane of Nature. But I know this is impossible. I know that the thing I want is exactly the thing I can never get….It is a part of the past. And the past is the past and that is what time means, and time itself is one more name for death, and Heaven itself is a state where ‘the former things have passed away.’ (pp. 24-25)
Reality never repeats. The exact same thing is never taken away and given back. . . For that is what we should all like. The happy past restored. And that, just that, is what I cry out for, with mad, midnight endearments and entreaties spoken into the empty air. (p. 26)
And poor C. quotes to me, ‘Do not mourn like those that have no hope.’ It astonishes me, the way we are invited to apply to ourselves words so obviously addressed to our betters. What St. Paul says can comfort only those who love God better than the dead, and the dead better than themselves. If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to ‘glorify God and enjoy Him forever.’ A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her son on her knees, or bathe him, or tell him a story, or plan for his future, or see her grandchild. (pp. 26-27)
Our family greatly appreciates the tender loving care shown to us from the first moment the terrible news of our truck crash became known even through these moments of facing the memories afresh.
I am grateful to not be going through it alone and although members of our family don’t all write about it as much as me (or at all), I know that we are in this together.
I wanted to share some of the things which they have written during this last week:
On May 4, Rebekah wrote, “2 years ago today, 17 year old AnnaLeah Karth was killed due to injuries sustained in a collision in which the car she was riding was hit once by a semi that veered into the next lane where the car was causing the car to be spun around, then hit again and pushed underneath a second semi.
She had talked about possibly studying medieval history at the college level, and she loved to write. Instead of introducing her to some of my medievalist friends from college like I had planned, we dealt with the aftermath of her death.”
Photos she shared:
On May 8, Rebekah wrote, “Two years ago today, Mary Lydia Karth died at the age of 13. Her death was due to severe injuries from a collision involving two semi trucks.
For many other people, however, it was a day of hope, because she was matched with 50 people needing bone marrow, in addition to her corneas being matched as well. 13 years isn’t very long, but that is an amazing impact and legacy to leave behind: the gift of life and the gift of sight.
It doesn’t take away our pain, but I am comforted that there are several other families who received the gift of extra time with their loved ones. http://www.organdonor.gov/whydonate/index.html ”
On May 8, Naomi wrote, “I used to nanny for a little boy who said the sky was “crying” whenever it rained. So it seems pretty appropriate that today, on the two year mark of Mary joining her sister in heaven, that it is pouring out right now.
It’s still so hard to put in words… This feeling. Loss, pain, grief. We miss her. We miss AnnaLeah. So much so that we still can’t talk about the wreck without needing to cry.
It isn’t fair, but I’m so grateful for the precious years we did have- and how Sam’s sisters became my sisters too.
Sam confessed recently that part of his attraction to me was how playful and silly I could be. Much like his Mary, who was his best friend. We will cherish these times most of all, the memories of the impossibly silly* things we did. How we could laugh. How we could try to make anything fun or a game.
And we will remember. And cry. And keep on going.”
Photo shared by Naomi:
On May 5, 2015, Danelle wrote, “May 4th went by as just another ordinary day, but the pain in our hearts is still there. Loved, Missed, and Never forgotten. AnnaLeah Karth, May 15, 1995 to May 4, 2013.”
Photo shared by Danelle:
On May 8, Danelle shared, “My mind is a buzz of thoughts. I have so many things I want to share and I am not quite sure how to keep it brief. On the one hand I want to talk about how grateful I am to be a part of this family and how much it means to me to know each one of my in-laws.
On the other hand I want to share with everyone the wonderful silliness* that Mary shared with everyone that she met. Or how I know my daughter was too young to really remember her, but how I can see some of her silliness rubbed off on her niece as she was such a big part of her early years.
I will forever remember the joyful little girl and the wonderful young woman she had become. I am grateful for the 8 years that I was blessed to know her and the love that she poured into my children. Loved, Missed, and Never forgotten. Mary Lydia Karth. August 6, 1999 to May 8, 2013.”
Photos shared by Danelle:
* Silly Mary. . . with all this talk of silly Mary, here are some glimpses of her fun-loving self, her infectious joie de vivre:
