My Boy is not Home, but my Heart is Full

 Caleb,

This week was supposed to be different. 

Once upon a time it was going to be your "Welcome Home" week.  While we know you've been welcomed to your Heavenly Home, our family had some emotional moments together this week as we imagined that welcome hug that could have been. Should have been.

Instead, we spent the week remembering you. We cleaned the house and yard, with help from dear loved ones, and invited family and friends for a celebration. 

In the middle of all the heartache that comes with that reality, we found ourselves overwhelmed by love. 

Friends, family, and mission companions (and friends),  gathered to celebrate you. They showed up with stories, memories, laughter, tears, and reminders that your life mattered deeply to so many people. We left feeling grateful for a community that has carried us in so many ways over the past 5 months.

We drank gallons of grape juice in your honor.  This is Papa's finest juice, fresh from the farm.  You were excited to have your share of it when you came home.  We all had it for you!

With the greatest fondness and love.

 

 

One of your comps, Elder Rees told some fun stories. 

Dad and I kicked off a fundraiser for some friends on the reservation, which we'll keep going for a few weeks!  I know you're behind the fundraiser, because I have felt you leading my heart. We're excited to see what we can do to make a small difference on the reservation - like you did.

One of the most meaningful moments came when two Asian pear trees were planted in your honor. 

Of course they were Asian pear trees. You loved them.

Your home school group, our Vanguard Family, wanted to do something cool for us, and this was it.  It was more than cool. 

Since we needed 2 trees for pollination, they are now the twin trees. One for you, one for Kylee.  We'll see which one gets taller.  Kylee may have a chance to be taller than you yet. 

What made the planting so beautiful was that everyone participated. Even though the trees were a gift from Vanguard, everyone who attended your celebration had the chance to participate.

One by one, people took a shovel full of dirt from the ground or returned a shovel full to the hole. It wasn't just a tree planting - it was a shared act of remembrance. Each person contributed something small. Each person helped create something that will live and grow long after that day.

I've learned that ancient people saw trees as symbols of life, connection, and heaven touching earth. Their roots reach deep into the ground while their branches stretch toward the sky. They stand as reminders that there is more to our existence than what we can see.

My friend Sarah reminded of this when the planting of the trees was announced, and all these connections fell into place.

  • You loved climbing trees when you were young. There was something about getting higher that called to you. You weren't content to stand on the ground when there was a branch above you waiting to be reached.
  •  
  • You also fell out of a tree. It was traumatizing - but still a big part of your story, since it included broken ribs, a punctured lung, deep bruising and a concussion. 
  • As you got older, you spent countless hours cutting wood on our little farm.  For fun. You always took care to have dry wood for our wood burning stove during the winter.
  • Eventually, on your mission, you chopped wood not just for a cold winter's day at home, but for the only heat source many have during the winter - their wood burning stoves. While many people saw hard work, you often saw an opportunity to help. You never seemed to mind the sweat or the effort, especially if it meant making someone else's burden lighter. 
  • And now, trees have been planted in your honor



After the trees were planted we decided to sing a song and have a prayer.  Off the cuff, I chose the song Jesus is the Way. It's originally a Tongan song that you and Kylee both learned on your missions, an ocean apart - so it seemed fitting in the moment.  The 3rd verse struck me differently as we were standing around those trees


Our Savior is the precious tree
That bears the fruit so sweet and pure
His truth that makes us ever free
Unchanging will endure

A tree begins as something small and vulnerable. Then, year after year, it quietly grows. It reaches upward. It puts down deeper roots. It provides shade, fruit, beauty, and shelter to people it may never meet.

That sounds a lot like the life you lived.

You left this earth far too soon, but the roots of your influence continue to spread through the lives of those who knew you. The fruit of your kindness continues to nourish people. The shelter of your example continues to strengthen us.

Those trees will grow taller every year. Their branches will stretch wider. Someday they will bear fruit. Children may climb them. Families may gather beneath them. 

We will sit in their shade and remember your story.

We'll remember the missionary cutting wood and serving others,  the little boy climbing trees, the young man who loved Asian pears.

And every spring, when blossoms appear on those branches, we'll be reminded that life continues, that love continues, and that what is planted in faith eventually bears fruit.

We miss you terribly, Caleb.

But this week, as we stood surrounded by people who love you and watched those trees take root in the earth, we just felt gratitude.  A lightening of the grief, and an abundance of gratitude.

Gratitude for you and for the people who remember you.

There was also quiet feeling, that while we can't see the full picture yet, our roots will always be connected.

While this week was not a "Welcome Home" week, it was a healing week.  

One day in the future,  you will be the "welcomer," to greet us into our Heavenly Home.  

I look forward to that day!

Love,

Mom

PS - Thank you to all who came to Caleb's celebration. And if you didn't make it, thank you for supporting us from a distance.  We can feel all the love!  We'd love for you to share the fundraiser on social media to help us raise money for wood sheds on the Navajo reservation where Caleb was serving.  Watch for details on my social media.

 





























 

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