The Water – Johnny Flynn feat. Laura Marling

Riverside – Agnes Obel

Barefoot Floors – The Wailin’ Jennys

Sweet Light – The Chapin Sisters

Stand In Awe – Dala

Give Me One Reason – Tyrone Wells & Jason Reeves

Show Me – Audrey Assad

Gone Away – Lucy Schwartz

Take Me Home – Lisbeth Scott, Nathan Barr

Books – Joy Kills Sorrow

Tip of my Tongue – The Civil Wars

1. my birthday party.  my actual birthday was ‘celebrated’ with a long plane ride and 2 days of lost luggage…somewhat underwhelming.  but two weeks later, once i was back in VA, i was informed that a birthday party was being planned for me and i didn’t have to do a thing!  as the person who tends to initiate gatherings within my groups of friends, not having any responsibility was a gift in itself.  but the gifts continued.  the deans hosted all of us for a barbecue, mama dean made a famous cake, matt made homemade ice cream (peanut butter oreo…my friends know me so well), so many of my favorite people were there, and the most wonderful gift was having braydon drive down from PA to surprise me.  i felt so celebrated and special, knowing that all of this had been planned for me.  thanks to all who made that effort.

2. all saints day.  if you check back to my entries from november you will find a post with this title.  i was asked to write about my experience with matt’s death for an all saints day service at my church.  writing that was a wonderful and exhausting experience, but the ‘best day’ part came in to play during the sharing and aftermath.  reading what i had written was difficult, but i had an entire row of friends right next to me who knew and loved matt as much as i did.  if i had needed someone to stand next to me, or had reached down for a hand to hold, i know that those things would have been offered instantly and without question.  the way the service was planned, i ended up having to sing a song immediately after i shared.  i wasn’t sure how i would do it, but with a deep breath and the encouragement of ben and angie standing next to me, the three of us were able to sing a song for matt and for all of the others we were remembering that day.  and it still wasn’t finished.  as we gathered for lunch after the service, i sat with all of those friends and we took the time we had been needing to share stories of matt, to laugh together over the hilarious memories he left with us…as the tables began to be cleared we walked outside to a nearby bench and continued our story-telling, still laughing, though sometimes through tears.  we stayed as long as we could…nobody was willing to be the first to leave.  but as we did, we shared a long group hug–a physical representation of the cathartic and therapeutic conversation we had just been so blessed to share.  i can’t imagine going through these past months without these friends, and others who weren’t able to be there that morning.  the web of support i have is thick and far-reaching…it continues to amaze me and take my breath away every time i reach out and am met with exactly what i need.  thanks to all who make that effort.

3.  grilled cheese and tomato soup.  we have a big and exuberant group of friends.   our singing is robust, our appetites are hearty, and our game-playing is competitive and LOUD.  but as much as i love our big gatherings, they can occasionally be overwhelming.  so although i could have easily chosen one of our themed parties as a favorite day, i decided to give the honor (?) to a much smaller scale gathering time.  in the week before braydon left for india, he, jess, ben, and i got together one night and shared a simple meal of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.   it was wonderful.  we told stories, laughed until we cried, mocked each other mercilessly…all of the things we love to do together.   it was a welcome change to spend time with just a few close friends at once, being able to focus more completely on each other instead of being pulled in all different directions,  and we’re all looking forward to doing it again once braydon is back.  thanks to you three for so effortlessly being you.

there are many days i could have written about, and on any given night the days i chose might have been different.  but tonight they are these, and for these i am thankful.

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Before this year, I had never truly felt the sting of death.  I was always either too young to really be impacted, or had been provided time to prepare when death was imminent and natural and a relief.

That ended on July 3rd.  I was midway through the first of two weeks in Portugal, and eagerly looking forward to celebrating with my sister at her wedding in two days.  I stopped in at a local cafe to check my email–looking forward to hearing from friends and hopefully receiving some belated birthday congratulations.  Instead, I read an email subject line that will forever be ingrained in my memory: Death of Matt Garber.  What?  I didn’t comprehend it.  MY Matt Garber?  He can’t be dead, I’m going to have lunch with him in Auugst when he gets back from Costa Rica and I am passing through Pennsylvania–we’ve been looking forward to it for months.  I opened and read the message, and then opened and read all of the others I had received–each offering support and condolence and shared grief.  I still didn’t react–my body and mind were on autopilot.  I turned off the computer and made my way to the other side of the room, to my dad–and only then did I succumb to the most exhausting outpouring of grief I have ever experienced.

Four months have past, and the grief is still there.  But now that pain mingles with joy and my memories of Matt more often lead me to laughter than to tears.  I walk daily in spaces that hold rich memories of the many hours I spent with Matt.  From my desk at work I will often catch a glimpse of a red backpack over by the mailboxes, and I smile to myself thinking of how this used to signal an imminent visit from Matt, always with new stories guaranteed to send me into fits of giggling.   The recital hall in Lehman Auditorium is where I first learned to know Matt and where we spent the most time doing what we both love so much–singing.  Our shared musical experiences will always be some of my most vivid memories of my time with him.  But above all, memories of Matt surface most often when I find myself surrounded by the close-knit group of friends that we shared.  “Matt Stories” come up frequently in our conversation, sometimes sending us into quiet places of contemplation, but far more frequently sending us into howling bouts of laughter.  Even from his memorial service in July, laughter is what I most clearly remember.  Matt’s laugh, and his ability to make US laugh, remains one of his most precious gifts to us as we all make our way uncertainly into the future.  None of us knows how to do this.  We wrestle with anger and pain and jealousy and so, so many questions.  But we lean on each other.  We allow space for questions, and space to not have answers.  We give more hugs–holding each other close in a physical reminder that the time we have together is a gift, and not to be taken for granted.  We cry and we laugh and we find healing in our memories and in each other.

Ken Nafziger, a professor Matt thought so highly of, wrote the following tribute soon after learning of his death, eloquently describing the significant impact Matt had, and continues to have, on so many of our lives.  He wrote:

In spite of Matt’s tragic death this week, there are important things that death cannot take from me. The space that Matt occupied in my life cannot be occupied by anyone else. The memory of his laughter is mine forever. His love for music and for singing and for playing offers encouragement to engage others in making music. His love for God is written indelibly in my experience. His insatiable hunger and desire to add more richness, more experience, more knowledge, more soul, more friends is a model for any life well-lived. When I told him after graduation that he would really be missed in the year(s) ahead, I could not have known the real good-bye I was bidding him. I just know that in my memory and in my spirit, Matt lives on. Well done, good and faithful servant…

For his senior seminar class, Matt was required to write his “final words”, and after outlining his vision of a life well-lived, he concluded with this: The influence of his life is not finished with his death, just as he had hoped. The love he showed will live on in the hearts of the people he touched.

Though we all wish that these final words had not been called upon quite so soon, there is comfort in knowing that what he most wanted is being fulfilled.  Matt was a humble and willing servant, who succeeded in showing great love to the many people he touched, even in such a short time.  May that love live on in the hearts of all of us who were touched by him.

ambition?  i lack it.  that is to say, i lack it in forms that are easily recognizable to people who are not me.  not only am i not currently researching graduate programs, i have no plans to do so in the near (or far) future.  despite being a college graduate, i am not elbowing my way to the top of any corporate ladder.  though i would not be opposed to the idea of it happening naturally, i am not hungrily searching for someone to settle down and start a family with.  so, i imagine that they wonder, what AM i doing?

i AM working in a job that is full of distinct challenges and frustrations, but that it allows me to feel both competent and needed.  it also comes with a fair share of unique perks (paid holidays!  life-long chamber singers membership!  amusing student quotes!).

i AM involved with and committed to Shekinah.  though my involvement with this group did at one point become less than healthy, taking a step back and deciding to take a year off was a huge personal gain for me.  i was able to expand my harrisonburg niche to involvements that reached beyond that group, so that once i returned i knew how to be committed in a more reasonable way.  shekinah is now a part of my life again, but it is only one part.  and now that my role is more specific, i am able to focus more completely on the aspects of shekinah that i truly enjoy.  finding and introducing new music to the group continues to energize me, and the joy i feel when a song that once caught my ear as a ‘possibility’ comes to fruition in a successful and well-received performance is immense.

i AM pursuing and cultivating important and life-giving friendships.  it is evident to me that, although i need and allow myself to have ample alone time, my energy and enthusiasm for daily living is absolutely buoyed by these interactions.  it has been made abundantly clear to me in this past year that age is really not a factor when it comes to the way i relate to people, and i have been absolutely blessed by people twice my age and people who i may always think of fondly as ‘freshmen’, despite the fact that they no longer are.  others may not understand these relationships, and that was initially an issue for me, but i am relieved to have gotten to the point where i don’t care.  i love who i love…and i love them mucho.

i AM actively committed to a church that appeared for me at a time when i most needed it to, and intend to continue pursuing my calling within that congregation as it grows and changes.

i AM doing many things.  maybe my ambitions are not immediately evident, and maybe they don’t have results that can be easily measured, but i am content in the knowledge that they are there, providing my days with purpose and focus and beauty and challenge and life.

organizing my thoughts through writing has always been therapeutic for me, much more so than talking ever can be, and this summer i found myself in times of reflection realizing that what i’m really doing is composing. a eulogy, a congratulatory speech, a letter of thanks, a journal entry. all in my head. as i sat on beaches, endured long plane and car rides, lay awake in bed at night, drove to the grocery store, walked across EMU’s campus on cool summer evenings, my thoughts came as though i was crafting an essay…running through each sentence over and over in my head as i discard a word that doesn’t work, replacing it with the only one that could be perfect. perhaps this is something i’ve always done, but i became incredibly aware of it this summer. i actually enjoyed it. but this method of reflection came with it’s fair share of frustration, since i would come back later to one of these ‘essays’ and know that i couldn’t remember an essential piece. and all of this brought me to now. we will see if this does become a place where these thoughts can spill out and hopefully leave my head feeling a little less cluttered.

and here i am on the cusp of another year at EMU. after this year i will have worked at EMU for as long as i was a student there. this thought is both sobering and exciting. on one hand, each year i see students graduate and move beyond the valley to new lives in new cities or countries. i compare myself to them and wonder what is holding me back from moving away and searching for my true calling. on the other hand, i am building a life for myself in harrisonburg and absolutely love and depend on the relationships and ties and connections that i have here. i have truly found a niche, and i am happy. if i had left EMU after i graduated, there are so many relationships i would never have formed, and it is painful to try and imagine my life without those people. it is easy to believe that one of the main reasons i am still in harrisonburg is because i needed to know these people and to have them in my life.

i look forward to writing with joy about the special weddings i participated in this summer, about the gatherings of summer friends who kept me laughing and truly became a family to me, about the funny things that happen to me at work and beg to be shared. i look forward to an entry that will be difficult to write, but that has been a constant composition and work in progress during the weeks since i learned of matt’s death. it would be lying to say that those thoughts are not the crux of this new project, though i don’t intend to dwell on them constantly. but i do look forward to the release that will come when two months of swirling and constant thoughts are spilled out, and am surprised i did not get here sooner. but for those who wonder, i am doing well.  three times i said it in this paragraph: i look forward.  i am a work in progress, constantly changing and learning and experiencing.

so there you have it. entry #1. hello, world.