unite and conquer

February 20, 2010

 

Hello Melanie, Michelle and Friends of Chris,

 

I am writing to express my family’s sympathy and sorrow that we feel for Chris and Mark, Derek & Drew and Kay Lou and Dave and Jen and Chad.  Over the last ten years, they have become an important part of our family lives. We have shared many family memories at the river. Our time next summer will be sad and at times not feel that our lives will ever be the same but at the same time we feel that because of Derek and Drew we will continue the best summers that we can have at the river for them and for Chris.

 

My memories of Chris are many but the ones that I remembered the most are those that relate to our children.  She loved, cared and worried about her children as much as I do. That was our common bond.  During the summer months, Chris and I would sit on the swing at the river on the bank and look down at the dock and watch and talk about our kids. We would laugh.  My children – Keith, Michelle and Karen made her laugh and her children Derek & Drew made me laugh.  It seemed that because we worried about our own children that we laughed more at each others'.

 

Chris was special in that she was sincerely interested in Keith, Michele and Karen.  She made sure that every year she came to see their sports in football, basketball, baseball, field hockey and tennis.  Once she checked the schedule to see Karen play tennis and Michelle play field hockey at Central the same day so she, Kay Lou and the boys could see both in the same day. She saw ½ of Karen’s match and ½ of Michelle’s game. She made Derek a t-shirt with Creasy 33 for a football game Keith’s senior year. We all loved it. She would listen to Keith’s football games on the radio when she was not at the game.  She would ask me about some comments made about Keith during the game on the radio. I could not believe that she would take the time to pay attention to my children the way she did, but she did.

 

She related the most to Michelle, laughed and enjoyed Karen, and viewed Keith as a good role model for her boys.

 

Chris and Dave took our family Christmas pictures at the river for 2008.  She and Michelle were in to it the most.  Michelle wore a green bathing suit which was appropriate for Christmas and Chris liked that idea. All the pictures were great but it was because of Chris, Dave and Michelle.  That day was when Chris took the picture of the five kids stacked on Phyllis and George’s pontoon boat.  It was Michelle’s idea and Chris took the picture, it was one of Chris’s favorite pictures.

 

She told me once that Derek said that if he had a sister it would be Karen. Derek was young at the time.  She did not know why he thought that but we both loved it. One summer at the river Karen came with her friends, of course 3 boys and she forgot her bathing suit.  Chris and I were on the swing on the bank and looked down and Karen was skiing and swimming with her friends in gym shorts and a sports bra.  It was the most I have seen Chris laugh.  She said that she would never have done that in a million years and she laughed even more when I told her that Karen’s sports bras were in bad condition.

Chris liked that Keith had a good reputation for excelling in Math. Keith always played with Derek and Drew and Chris enjoyed watching them. It was good for Keith and for Derek and Drew.

 

One of the things that Chris believed is that her children, family, and her community are important and she lived knowing and loving that importance.

 

I have always had the most respect for Chris, was honored to be her distant relative, and thank her for all the memories. I wish that I could have told her these things but I always had faith that I did not need to tell her because she would be here. 

 

We want to let Mark, Derek & Drew know that we will be part of their lives forever and we will help them in any way we can to live safely and happily.

 

Love,

 

Todd, Donna, Keith, Michelle, & Karen

Ok – so Melanie gave me a deadline (I think it has already passed) so I am going to attempt to collect some thoughts on Chris. Not that that’s hard – I’m just not that eloquent with my words, but I do want Mark, the boys, and her family to know what Chris means to me.

This is what I know about Chris – she loved Norman Rockwell, the color yellow, and daffodils. Her socks always matched her shirt. She was a perfectionist in everything she did. If it wasn’t done right, it wasn’t done at all. She was a dedicated member of the community as a family, a member of the church, and a school teacher for 19 years.

But to really know Chris, all you have to do is look at her family – what she came from, and what she provided, to see what type of person she truly was. Her parents are kind, caring people – characteristics that surely have been passed down to Chris. They know that family is important whether it was to be there for Chris, Mark or the boys. They were proud parents, and with good reason. They took their job of parenting seriously, and in turn produced children that did the same.

Our children kind of define who we are as parents and we all want the best for our children, but there is a lot of hard work that goes into that. All you have to do is look at Derek and Drew, and you know what type of parents Chris and Mark are. These boys are two of the most well-behaved, polite, and respectful children one could know. (Now I’m not saying they are perfect, and Chris or Mark may have argued that statement, I’m just calling them like I see them.) I think it is natural for kids to give their parents a hard time – that is part of their job, right? But it’s the way they conduct themselves in public that reflects what we have taught them as parents. I don’t think they could ask for anything more than what they have in Derek and Drew. I know Chris is proud of her boys, but it is because of the caring, gentle, hard work that Chris and Mark have put into it.

Chris and I taught the same grade/subject in school so we have shared many stories. I always knew how conscientious she was in her work, and she was always welcoming ideas that produce better PSSA scores! We attended conferences together, shared projects, discussed textbooks, and many other things that I will truly miss. I don’t think I really knew the impact Chris truly had on the Millville school district until I heard the outpouring of stories provided by previous students and how Chris took time to help so many students with a subject that is less than desirable to many. As teachers, we strive to touch student’s lives, and make them succeed. Chris – make no mistake – your mission was accomplished. I often wonder if the same would be true for me. I can only hope that I can make the same kind of impact on my students. Thank you Chris for reminding me of what my job is really about. It’s the smiles, the kind words, and being there after your students are out of your class that makes the difference.

Mark and Chris have earned a great deal of respect from me over these past several months. Seeing Chris go through this process, not once did I hear her complain, ask why, or appear angry. She took the illness and dealt with it with grace and dignity. I’m not sure how she handled it so well. I have often tried to put myself in her place to see what I would do, but I just come away not knowing how I would deal with it. Chris’s faith never wavered, and seemed to give her the peace she needed. Mark was so supportive, kind, and caring. He never seemed irritated with the numerous phone calls or visits. He always took the time to explain things (probably 4 or 5 times in one night), and thanked us all for being there for Chris. The only struggle I knew Chris had was leaving her boys behind. Chris – we will do our best as a community to provide your boys with the love and support they need. Mark – you are awesome. I know every day when Chris looks down on her family, she is truly smiling. She has so much to be proud of. Chris - I love you dearly and will see you someday.

“When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be. When we all see Jesus, we’ll sing and shout the victory.”

Michelle

February 14, 2010

Sorry for the quiet here.  I've been on vacation, and honestly, this has been harder to do than I realized.  It's easier not to dive into the sadness I feel when I post here.  It'll get better, I know.  For now, I thought I'd observe the holiday by posting a few shots of Chris and Mark, in memory of their great, long love. 

 

I think this one was Mark's prom . . . can anyone confirm that?

Then, of course, was this.  Her dress was a little longer . . . and whiter.  I think Mark reminded me recently that I sang "All I Need" by Jack Wagner at the ceremony.  They must have intended this part of the lyrics ironically:  "All I need is just a little more time to be sure what I feel . . . "  They were married in 1990, the August after Chris graduated from college (a year early).  Which means, of course, that they would have celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary this year.  They were so lucky to have one another.

 

We can still say Happy Valentine's Day to them, right?

Right.  Happy Valentine's Day to a couple of people who really got it right.  Love never dies.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Here's the start of the photos from the memorial.  This is the picture of the family that stood framed at the front of the church.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

I've been offline for a couple days while we were on the road visiting family.  I have lots of pictures to put up; please keep the lovely memories coming in your comments.  One note about posting comments:  please be sure to sign your name and leave us an email address (it won't be published) so we can contact you if necessary.

I spoke with Mark yesterday, and he said they're all getting through their days, though he said they are having "lots of talks" in the evening before bed.  I cannot imagine what it's like to try to get your head around losing your mom when you're as young as the boys.  I can only wonder how it is, night after night, to be crawling under the covers without that familiar comforting love.  Please keep them in your prayers.  As a community, we can try to fill many holes in their lives, but those are moments that no one will be able to ease.  Mark is an amazing father; he has a lot of love to give and isn't afraid to show his feelings or talk about them with his kids, which is a real gift to them.  

Friday was the last day of meals that Tara had scheduled from before Chris passed away.  That's a real testament to the support of the community around them - there was such an outpouring of care during Chris's illness.  Mark and the boys are so grateful for not having to worry about those mealtimes.  Kay Lou is at the house a great deal and is cooking their dinners now.   Though yesterday morning Mark whipped up Belgian waffles, bacon and hash browns for breakfast - I'd like him to let me know when he opens a restaurant.  I am mindful that these days in a way are not the hardest ones, and so I asked Mark to consider letting Tara set up some meals occasionally in a month or two.  If you are interested and willing, please let Tara know or email us at the address link to the right and we'll get in touch if that happens. 

As with so many things in life, this journey is a marathon, not a sprint.  Thank you for staying with this wonderful family for the long haul.  Your prayers, visits and calls are essential for them to keep their heads above water.  Some months ago, when Chris had just been diagnosed and was going through the first of her many chemotherapy treatments, Mark said that he didn't know what he'd do if they didn't live in a small town like Millville.  I know that support remains so important to them now.  Even if you don't live in the area, please don't let them stray too far out of your mind for too long.  An email, call or visit when you can is ALWAYS welcome.  I keep checking this with Mark, and it's true.  So if you're in the neighborhood, stop on by.  If you have a minute, pick up the phone or dash of a card or email.  The benefit of this small use of your time will be extraordinary.  So many of their family and friends are doing just this right now, and Mark, the boys, and the rest of the family are so buoyed by your support.  I think sometimes people are afraid that the family needs to be alone right now, and that is not the case.  They still need your help and will for many months and years to come. 

Now that I have Internet access again, I'll post some pictures and messages.  Thanks for your faithfulness!

February 3, 2010

A week ago, Chris's body gave out and her days with us ended.  I guess this is a first marker of time.  One week.  And yet the knowledge doesn't yet rest easy; it's not an accepted fact for my head.  It's one reason I'm still writing here. 

The other reason is that I am still writing this blog is because I am asking you, its readers, to consider leaving a comment here with your memories of Chris.  As I noted yesterday, we'll be making this blog into a book for Chris's family, and I'd like to use these couple of weeks to share recollections, impressions and impacts that Chris has had on us.  I also hope to share some of the memories that we'll create around Chris in the years to come.  Because her spirit isn't gone, and our memories of her will go on as well.

The boys will be getting to school right about now.  Please hold them close in your hearts and prayers today.  Today is one week.  It's still only the beginning.  But they'll make it through with your support, one morning at a time.

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6:34

February 2, 2010

I spoke with Mark earlier today.  He's at home going through that list of stuff you do at this point.  Like: confirming details of insurance, both life and health, organizing papers that relate to this, returning her computer and key fob to the school.  The boys are back in classes, starting yesterday.  He said they're sleeping but he's having trouble. 

Mark said to please visit them often.  They need our support and remembrance now more than ever and will continue to for months and years.  Coincidentally, I ran across an article yesterday about the grieving process.  There were a few interesting ideas in it.  One was that grieving is not something best done alone.  Which we knew, right?  But good to be reminded of.  Another is that the "stages" everyone talks about don't usually unfold in that way, but often in more of an ongoing mess where stages are sometime repeated.  Another reason to remember to keep on visiting and staying in touch is that, according to the article, for many people, the most acute feelings of grief are often three months or more after a passing.  Click here if you're interested in reading the article in full.

We talked about some ways that we would like to see Chris's spirit live on - more about those later.  It's already begun with the comments on this blog.  It would be great to have some pictures to include, also, so if you have any to share, please send them to the email address linked at the right side of the page.  Thank you so much on behalf of everyone who will treasure this effort in far off years.  And it won't ever be said enough times, ever, in any format, context, language or way:  thank you so much for all of your support of this wonderful family.  They will never forget it.

February, 1, 2010

I’ve been asked to share some of my memories of Chris.  That is a very easy assignment.  I’ve been thinking of her constantly since the morning of January 27.  The process has been filled with many tears, but more smiles.  When I remember Chris Shultz I think of laughing and joking and yes, even teasing.  These are the things I would like to share with you now.

In working with Chris for more than 15 years I became very familiar with some of her “individualities” shall we say.  She always worked harder than anyone else.  In fact, she always had a “to do” list attached to her calendar and she would always do everything on that list before she left for the day.  She’d cross each item off, in order, as she accomplished it.  She spent the longest time just choosing the perfect grade book pen.  She would never use the ones supplied to us by the school because they skipped.  She needed one that didn’t bleed, didn’t blot, was not too thick or not too thin.  It had to be comfortable to use – and it had to come in both black and red.  I teased her that she should have worked for Consumer Reports.  She was relentless.

Chris was fun to be around.  In our earlier days, we spent a lot of time playing practical jokes, stealing wicker chairs, having desk chair races in the hallway, and gifting each other with stolen furniture from other classrooms.  We teased each other all the time.  She was so much fun to pick on and she had such a wonderful sense of humor.  I can’t remember a day with Chris that didn’t have at least one laugh.  She was a day-brightener.

I can still see her pregnant with Derek, sitting on a stool in the front of her classroom teaching on an overhead projector.  She had been told to stay off of her feet.  That’s a difficult task for a teacher, but Chris did it successfully.  Her teaching didn’t suffer.  In fact, every new educational strategy or idea or philosophy that we’ve been asked to incorporate Chris did and did it well.  She made teaching look effortless.  However, it wasn’t effortless.  She worked harder at being the excellent educator she was than anyone I know.  She made those around her – teachers and students - want to be better.  Chris was an inspiration.

It’s hard to let go of someone like Chris.  It’s hard for those of us who taught beside her to go to work every day and not see her in the hallway.  I’m sure it’s hard for her church members and her sports friends and those that socialized with her on a regular basis.  I’m also sure that she’s not really totally gone from us.  I know, for me, whenever I see someone wearing a striped shirt, or see a picture of Martha Stewart (sorry Chris – I had to say it), or see her handwriting in my recipe box, I will think of her.  When I do, I will smile, and thank God for having known her.  I will then say a prayer for Mark, Derek, and Drew.  I think that’s what we should all put on our to-do list.

 

Diann Vera

11:54 PM, January 31, 2010

The service was beautiful.  The family -- I don't know what to say -- they ran a marathon today.  Those boys, they made their mom so proud.  I stood in the back of the church by myself for a few minutes watching the family as they greeted, held hands and hugged a constant stream of people from across their lives.  It was the third hour of this.  Derek and Drew stood there with the rest of the family, just boys, doing what many grown men would be incapable of.  Their mom would have been desperately heartbroken and proud to have seen it.  They are truly dear, precious, sweet boys, really, really good boys.  And like Chris said, they do not deserve this.  But because they are her boys, they are dealing with it.  That doesn't mean that their path of mourning is always going to be pretty.  But with the support of their family and community, I know they can all get through it.  Drew's teacher, Mrs. Anderson (who was also his mom's and my third grade teacher), brought over a care package for him on Friday.  In it were some books on baseball, some gift certificates for the movies and sporting goods, and, oh yeah, his HOMEWORK.  An important message, that one.  In fact, right up until she passed away, Chris was admonishing her boys to do their homework (as a teacher, how could she not, really?).  

At one point during the service, Pastor Leonard invited folks to share a recollection about Chris.  Of course, I thought of mine about 20 minutes ago; I'm sure lots of people did. 

When I was in fourth grade, my dad cut the plugs off all the TV's in our house on a Sunday after Keith Schmuck preached a sermon about how families weren't spending enough time together in the evening.  This was, understandably, a major adjustment.  One major way I coped was to walk home from school every day with Chris to her Grandma Creasy's house on Walnut Street to catch General Hospital for an hour with her and then head home.  Now, Chris had probably invited me the first time, and maybe some after that, but I'm not sure I didn't just invite myself there every day for the rest of the school year.  You need to understand that this was the era of Luke and Laura, so it was some real good daytime drama happening there.  But I'm saying I'm not sure I wasn't invited, because I actually don't know that I was invited, but Chris and her Grandma were way too gracious to ever say anything about it if I wasn't.  It wasn't always just about the soap opera.  Like, one day, Grandma Creasy taught Chris/us how to make those delicious spearmint candy things I adored.  I'm pretty sure I wanted to eat a whole bunch of them, but they were for a function, so maybe she had to, oh, I don't know, ask me to stop eating them a little bit.  I don't know if I've ever properly thanked her for that lesson, or you know, maybe for that whole year.  Thanks, Grandma Creasy, and thanks Chris, you're both classy ladies.   

The family has been bowled over by the outpouring of love and support for Chris.  Words will always fail when trying to convey the depth of their gratitude they feel.  Please continue to pray for them.  Tomorrow people will return to their distant homes; to their jobs and schools.  Tomorrow the quieting will begin and that terrible, grinding emptiness will start to settle on their home.  Please keep holding them close in your hearts and remember that Chris's journey has ended, but her family's is just beginning.  And they still need your support.  Thank you, as always, from the bottom of their hearts.

Postscript:  We'll be making this blog into a hardcover book for members of Chris's family.  It will be a way for them to remember what happened and for the boys, when they're old enough, to understand the journey their mom took and how her community felt about her along the way.  Please consider leaving a comment here or at any entry on this blog with your thoughts, feelings or recollections, to weave your voice into this loving tapestry.  Thank you. 

11:10 PM, Saturday, January 30, 2010

Tomorrow, dear Chris, your family will bury you.  I still can't believe it.  Last night, we looked at old pictures and there's this polaroid of you when you were around nine.  You'd pulled your hair up over your face and put your glasses on top.  I remembered that photo from when it was taken.  You were such a goof sometimes!  Not unlike your boys.  It seems they're doing okay right now.  But they're distracted by all the people around.  It might seem to a young kid like there were parties at your house every night.  Some of the hardest days are going to be in the coming weeks and months, when the house is too quiet.  I know their family and community is there for anything they need, but there is no way to fill that space.  Mark is so blown away, but it's like he's somehow carrying you with him.  Like it's still the Chris and Mark show, except that Chris isn't there.  Your parents look quietly devastated but carry on.  You came from a strong family and your journey has only strengthened them.  

Today, I saw a trailer full of folding chairs turn up toward the church, and it struck me:  those are going to Chris's funeral.  I don't know why those moments are so flattening; I guess it's the being caught off guard and feeling the shock all over again.  Those moments will happen for your family for a long time to come.  There's no way anyone can protect them from that. 

Even though your community can't fill the space you leave or protect her family from the pain of your loss, your community is returning the love you had for them.  Many people on this blog and the Facebook page have mentioned the letter you wrote to the Press-Enterprise following the 2009 basketball season, so I finally got a copy (thanks, Dave).  It's all you: clear, generous and smart.  This part jumped out:

"I love my town, and I always have.  Some of my friends have considered moving to another school district to provide 'more opportunities' for their children.  On the night that the team clinched the sole possession of the Heartland Conference championship with its second of three wins over St. Neumann, fire trucks were patiently waiting for the team to parade around the town with lights flashing and sirens wailing.  We were part of the line of cars that followed, with fans beeping and cheering.  Tears came to my eyes as my son said from the backseat, 'I love Millville.'  Knowing the names of nearly everyone in those full gyms, having close lifelong relationships, and watching out for one another's children will always be more important to me than extra AP courses or forensic clubs.  So to the loyal fans of Millville, thank you." 

Your town thanks you right right back, sweet Chris.  Tomorrow is just the start.     

We won't forget you or yours.

UPDATE, February 4, 2010:  Here's that Polaroid of Chris -

 

Thanks to the MHS faculty for retrieval and scanning!