Jack's Lanterns

My sister, Jack's Auntie, has started a group called Jack's Lanterns as way for runners/walkers/riders of any level to join together and dedicate some of their races to Jack's memory. Money raised goes to Jack's favorite charity, Samaritan's Purse. I love how friends and strangers, scattered around the globe, can join this team together to help spread some of the light that Jack brought into this world. Non-athletes (like, uh, me) can contribute in his name on the secure website. Consider adding yourself to the team!

Here's what Auntie had to say:

We are a group of runners, riders and walkers who want to give meaning to our efforts.

We are inspired by Jack Donaldson, our beloved son, nephew, and friend. We will never forget him. His patience and good humor inspire us to keep moving when the going gets tough. His intelligence and attention to detail inspire us to do our best and to notice the needs in the world around us. His kindness and love for others inspire us to support a ministry he loved: Samaritan's Purse.

The name "Jack's Lanterns" is borrowed from the back of a relay team shirt at a recent race. It reminds us that Jack's light is still with us. Through Samaritan's Purse, we share Jack's light and help others in the name of the Light of the World.

A few of us are running our first full marathon in March. Others are running for the first time in a long time, or choosing new distances and events in honor of Jack. Please lace up your shoes and join us! If you would like to join our team, just let us know. We would love to have a virtual team in a variety of events throughout the year.

Donating through this website is simple, fast and totally secure. It is also the most efficient way to support our fundraising efforts.

Many thanks for your support.

Luke 1:37 "Nothing is impossible with God."

Check out Jack's Lanterns Page!

Dream Weaver

A while ago Margaret and I were looking through one of the "junk drawers" in the kitchen. We found a yellow folder with page after page of Jack's handwriting from when he was 9 or 10 years old. The pages were a Dream Chart he kept for 70 days. The first page had a rating key with two components -- a color and a number-- with which he rated his dreams each morning.





Green=Funny
Blue= Happy
Red=Scary
Purple=Weird or Other

After the color, came an overall score:


1=Terrible
2=Bad
3=OK (not bad, medium)
4=Good
5=Great :)

The next 7 Pages, labeled "Jack 1" through "Jack 7" each listed 10 dreams and their ratings.

Examples include:


Scaffolding: "Red, 1" or Scary, Terrible

Mysterious Forest: "Blue, 4" or Happy, Good

Christmas: "Blue, 4" or Happy, Good

Reality: "Purple, 3" or Weird or Other, OK

Sponge Bob #1: "Green, 2" or Funny, Bad

Exhibit of Fun: "Blue, 5" or Happy, Great

Public School: "Red, 4" or Scary, Good

Kidnapped by Playdoh: "Purple, 5" or Weird or Other, Great


Some of his worst dreams centered around the demise of Margaret's (now departed) hermit crab, Smiley, which doesn't surprise me, given how worried Jack was about that crab back in the day.


For five nights his dreams were titled...
"Smiley's Destruction" and were rated: "Red, 1" or Scary, Terrible.

Tim has taken comfort in seeing these dreams listed:
Down the River: "Blue, 3" or Happy, OK
Bounding, Swirling and Slipping: "Green, 5" or Funny, Great
and
Water and Things: "Green, 4" or Funny, Good

I have laughed about the ones I was included in:

Mom Goes Mad: "Red, 3" or Scary, OK
and
Bee Mom: "Red, 1" or Scary, Terrible

Most leave me intrigued and wanting more details:
Freedom: "Purple, 1" or Weird or Other, Terrible
and
Cathead: "Red, 1" or Scary, Terrible

I like Jack's Dream Chart for so many reasons, mainly because it represents what I love about Jack.

First, it shows perseverance, as I can't think of very many things I've kept up with for 70 straight days (diets? journaling? exercise routines?). I don't have that kind of stick-to-it-ive-ness at age 42, let alone at age 10. Jack could focus on something for a long, long time. As I've written before, he had patience with people and with tasks.

The chart is also so darn quirky and creative, traits I will always admire about Jack. It didn't serve to accomplish anything by the world's standards, but I guess it fulfilled a desire of Jack's to track something fascinating and try to understand or make sense of it.

The quiet way Jack maintained this list each day while his dreams were still fresh, reminds me of the way he operated at home: quietly, methodically, always thinking. Whether he was building, doodling, or working his way through a logic puzzle book, Jack was quietly doing SOMETHING.

His humor and creativity, which we're learning was quite evident in school (although not always in the most appropriate manner!) shine through in the names Jack gave his dreams, just as they did in the many elaborate games he made up to play with Margaret and his friends.

I can't really sum up why I love this chart so much, but I do.

I'll just ask, what's not to love about someone who takes the time to record and remember a dream like this:

"Desert Neighborhood Parking Lot Mansion On Our Hill Theme Park Foreign Food Wars" ???

By the way, that one got a Green, 4 (Funny, Good)

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas Card Roundup

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Thank You, Tim (the husband formerly known as "Tom")

Many of you have been praying specifically for my marriage.

When you’ve been with someone for 20 years, as Tim and I have, there’s definitely more focus on carpools and sports schedules than on swinging from the chandeliers or eating chocolate covered strawberries. Kids and careers can make couples feel far removed from the giddy love felt when the biggest concern on their minds was how to coordinate costumes for the keg party on Saturday night or whether to choose fondant for a wedding cake. Factor in the trauma of losing your beloved child in a violent, senseless accident, and the damage to a marriage can be irreparable. Tim and I truly appreciate and desire your continued prayers for our marriage.

When I think of the two of us, I realize that except for God, there is no one who loves our two children as much as we do. No one. There is no one else who quite understands just what a loss Jack’s death is to our family, and to the world. This realization, this love, will always be glue to bind us together.

The single most hopeful factor in our marriage right now is that my dear husband does not blame me for the accident. At all. As a blamer myself, I find this astounding. As much as I love Tim, I am afraid that if he had been the one to let the kids go outside in the storm that day, I would have pulled up the car, waved Margaret into the backseat, and said sayonara to him and the dog. I don’t mean to sound flippant, but in a horrific situation like this it is so easy to want to pin blame, as if having someone to blame can help make sense of something so freakin’ senseless.

I know part of the terror so many people feel about Jack’s accident is that it could have happened to anyone. My kids. Your kids. Your grandkids. Kids go out in the rain. Kids are fascinated by creeks...even kids who aren’t big risk-takers and don’t leave their cul de sacs unattended.

But here’s the thing: I know with CERTAINTY that the accident would not have happened on Tim’s watch. I know Tim so well, and there is simply no way he would have let Jack go out that day given the particular circumstances. And Tim would normally have been home to make that call, but because the kids had no activities that night, he was a little later than usual. When the neigbhorhood kids knocked on the door, I made the call.

But Tim doesn't blame me. Not a smidge. Nothing.

I wonder how I could ever look my husband in the eyes knowing he blamed me for what could have been and should have been but is no longer? No more catch in the yard, no more pro baseball games, no more guys' movie nights, no more complicated math or logic puzzles that left Margaret and me saying, “Huh?”

I simply couldn’t. I could not live with the blame, and my subsequent shame. But from Tim, there is no blame. And that makes me love him more today than I ever have before.

As much as I want to blame someone, even if I am that person, I need to accept what I view as the grace Tim is giving me, in the same way I have accepted God’s grace in my life, again and again. And I will accept it. Because in order to be in a relationship, that’s what we both need.

I am absolutely certain Jack would not want our family to implode because of his death. He would not want us to try to prove how much we love and miss him by clinging to self-blame, recrimination, or even rumination over the maddening timeline of the accident.

So Tim is following nature, his instincts, by not blaming me at all. And I am going against my nature, my instincts, by not blaming myself. I hope this will honor Jack's memory and bolster our marriage in the process, because Jack loved us, and he loved this family.

A Wee Problem

I'm thinking that if a woman of a certain age wets her pants just a teensy bit, timely damage control might be severely hampered if the woman happens to be wearing skinny jeans and tall boots. This, of course, is pure conjecture.

Twelve Weeks

Twelve weeks. In pregnancy, 12 weeks signals the ability to breathe easier. You can start to tell your friends and family the good news. If you have miscarried in the past, or had trouble getting pregnant, 12 weeks is a reason for hope in what has been a scary, don’t-dare-to-hope time. Although a full-term baby is never, ever a certainty, 12 weeks is significant. It means something.

What does 12 weeks mean in grieving the loss of a child? 12 horrible weeks—one for each of 12 wonderful years with our son here on earth? There is a certain symmetry about it, but where does that leave us in a few days when we reach 13 weeks, yet our son will never be thirteen?

Margaret's Excellent Adventure-- LA Style, Part 2

Thanks to YOU, and these very sweet people-- Coke and Dick Clark Productions execs-- We were able to go from this:

To THIS!

And my personal fave: But we still had ANOTHER night of adventure ahead of us-- The AMA's themselves!

The afternoon of the show was pouring rain, with flood warnings even, because apparently we like to bring the gray cloud of doom with us wherever we go. The pictures you are about to see were taken in our hotel hallway, before we got soaked to the undies walking to the Nokia Theater sans umbrellas.

Margaret had an adorable navy dress bought for her by her friend K's mom. I wore the black dress I wore to my friend Cynthia's wedding 5 years ago, and Tim wore a snazzy borrowed suit with a new tie.

Despite the rain and cold, we rallied for our stint of celebrity-watching on the red carpet (Joe Jonas! Other people! Those little girls from Ellen who like to rap Nicki Minaj tunes! Lots of skintight, butt-skimming dresses!) and we had a fabulous time.

We had great seats at the concert, even though you couldn't see us on tv. Margaret and I waved pink glowsticks, singing along to the songs we knew. We watched with amusement and alarm as Jennifer Lopez shed more and more clothing. "Naked except for strategically placed bedazzles" is how Margaret and I described it later. Tim and I subtly wept during "Good Life." By the time the Hoff started shaking it in smiley face boxers, we were truly having a blast and were sorry to see it end.

The entire trip was a wonderful respite during a time of intense sadness. We laughed, told stories, and ordered room service sandwiches. We snuggled in beds made by someone else, watching "UP" on our tv while the rest of LA partied. We marveled at how uncrowded LA seemed compared to Northern Virginia. We saw an amazing awards show, got to gawk at some really c-razy outfits, and were able to gratefully accept the kindness shown us by so many people.

And the final kindness? This photo taken by Erin, who has been pulling for Margaret since day one, even having set up the JBLiftMargaret FB page.

The day of the AMA's Erin flew into LAX with her family for Thanksgiving break. She took this picture while driving down the highway toward the city. While Tim, Margaret, and I were people-watching, shivering, and heading into the show, look what was going on right over our heads: