In Memory of Rob Hall

Yes, the sun is still shining...

I haven’t been writing much publicly.

This grieving experience for me has involved processing much; in the middle of watching my kids  eat ice-cream cones and laughing when one of them steals a thieving lick from the other sibling’s cone.  This does not mean however, that I am not undone by the generosity and care that has been shown to me by those near and those just finding out about our situation since Rob’s accident.

It has been just over three months since Rob has gone and I have lived through the gammit of unbelief, shock, sleepless nights, tears, numbness and the reality that I still need to function, parent and love my kids.  I have had the unmatched support of a family who will fly to Africa to get me, let me live with them, and bend over to push my son on a tricylce for the thousandth time, because Cammie needs that right now.  Then there has been the financial love given to me by friends, family and those who I have never met, but have heard about our story and felt compelled to contribute in some way.

I have to say that perhaps the strangest yet most intense emotion I have held through this whole new chapter of my life has been gratitude.  I know this might sound strange, because it feels strange to me and I did not expect it.  I am not saying that I do not still hold moments of intense pain, panic or suffering, because I do.  Nevertheless, I am so grateful that I was given the opportunity to share Rob’s life for twelve years as his kindred and companion.  I am grateful that Kathryn was taught to bike with Rob and how to be whole in the security that her daddy loved her more than the ocean, that Simeon had Rob’s feet and his love for building and Cammie has Rob’s eyes and mischevious freckles and always ends the night saying that “my favorite day is Africa Mommy”.

I am grateful that I got to watch his passion for community in every church we worked in, and to adventure with him across Europe and Africa where he had as much fun giving my kids baguettes in Paris as he did on a spiritual adventure quest across Spain.  I have never known one who I loved more deeply, who forgave more easily or who had a complete inability to throw his socks in the laundry bin.  I know that my life will always be amputated of it’s richest avenue to joy, and yet, I get to have that happiness everyday when I get to watch Kathryn, Simeon and Cameron grow up.

I also know that I can’t answer the question “why”.  I doubt I will ever be able to understand such mystery, but I can say that I have never identified with Christ in his sufferings more than at this time.  God has shown himself as a God of compassion to me even in this darkest of nights in ways that I am yet unable to express clearly so I won’t.  All I will say is that comfort has been tangilble and not of my own making.

I guess I am writing this as a simple way of saying thank-you to all of the anonymous ones, who are wondering “how is Kate doing?”  I don’t know how I am doing, but I still choose trust over anger, love over fair-treatment, prailenes-and cream over mint-chocolate chip.

From the bottom of my toes, my kids and I thank you for your outpouring of heart,

With much love,

Kate & Kathryn & Simeon & Cameron Hall

June 3, 2011

This is the family leaving for Africa seven months ago…

This is the family leaving for Costa Rica this week.

Exact same terminal, exact same gate, exact same strollers, exact same backpack.

Totally different life.

What got me (as I helped check them in at–no joke–the exact same turnstile Robbie and I had checked them in at months before) was Kate’s courage.

“Are you having flashbacks?” I asked her as we walked t’wards the gate.

“Ummhmm…” she answered.

And kept walking.

That’s courage.

That’s evidence of her quality and of Robbie’s influence on her.

On the way to the airport Simeon blurted out, “I LOVE the World…” which is his way of saying he loves to travel.

Like his Daddy.

Seems to me each of you, struggling in your own way to keep on living, ought to take a look at Kate and her kids and learn from their example.

Just sayin’…

T

All seven of 'em eating dinner together...

It’s been bugging me to think that the posts aren’t being updated here.

I think all of us fam’ and closest friends were just utterly ‘spent’ after the funeral and Ottawa memorial.

But life goes on, and so does your interest (we hope and imagine) in Robbie’s legacy and Kate and the kids’ story.

They’re in Burlington, living with the grandparents, spending a lot of time at our house. We’re learning to cook for 9 and play with 9 and watch movies with 9.

I’m remembering how to change diapers.

Kate is keeping silent and making short forays out into the World to test its ‘feel’ now that it’s utterly changed for her.

The kids are well.

In the midst of this we’re all dealing with deep deep wells of sadness, unbelief, disappointment and shock.

Yes, the Lord is close by times, but there are times when we just kind of wander around wondering.

(I’ve been repeatedly losing my wallet, something that NEVER happens t0 me…)

If you can KEEP praying for Kate and the kids and her families that’d be great.

She’s headed away soon for a mini-break. We might persuade her to take some photos to share and maybe (just maybe) start writing a bit in this here space.

We can tell you plans are shaping up for a charity golf tournament in Rob’s memory (he’d LOVE that I’m sure) and perhaps a book and a documentary and maybe even a feature-film telling their story.

Early days.

We’re also going to be cutting the funeral service video (the audio mix is done) and posting it (and selected bits as well) here for you in the near future. We hope it will end up being a tool for memory, for worship and for evangelism as you point people to it by way of sharing Robbies’ powerful life story.

Anyway, we’ll try to be ‘back’ here a bit more consistently now that we’ve ‘moved on’ to doing our best to learn how to move on.

And on, and on, and on…

With love,

T

Details for Rob’s Memorial Gathering in Ottawa have come together beautifully.  It has been both heart-wrenching and heart-warming as we’ve worked together to prepare this strange and wonderful “feast” to share with you.

For those able to come come, it will be a feast of story and memory, a feast of joy, a feast of grief, a feast of Word and a feast of friendship.  It will be community remembrance and worship at it’s finest.

Please come prepared to hear… to listen deeply to a story that will enrich you.  Come prepared to grieve with us in this place of honesty and openness.  Come prepared to worship from the heart.  Come prepared to be inspired and challenged by the story of a life lived for others.  Please come prepared to celebrate the life of our dear Robbie with us.

Please come prepared to share… following the service there will be time for food, conversation and contribution with various memorial stations set up in the foyer.

• a station for those who want to share resource in support of Kate and the kids
• a station with note cards for sharing scriptures and words of encouragement for the family
• a station for children and grown-ups to share artful doodles and kooky poems
• a couple of roving stations… videographers with flip cams wondering about to capture your memories.

Please join us this Friday at 3:00pm at Kanata Baptist Church. (directions here)

Love to all,

Ahren

Laying compost...

A friend of mine was at Robbie’s funeral.

During my sermon he sketched this.

Sent it to me.

I HAD to send it to you.

So lovely and encouraging, and I figure you might be in need of some of that.

Tonight I went running for the first time since he died. Really didn’t want to. Even the normal things of life seem trivial, stupid and a waste of time.

Until I think about what he’d want me to do.

He’d want me out running, living well, doing my best at what God’s called me to do until I get to go see his fields someday.

Hoping you’re slowly finding some hope.

Keep praying for it for us, for Kate especially, and her lovelies…

T

Sweet Babies...

You know, there’s a chance you might be inclined to forget, or stop praying or caring.

We realize that.

There’s part of us that will have to move on and through this also.

But right now?

Right now things are really rough around here. We just had our first family gathering without him.

An (un)happy birthday party.

I mean, we tried, but shoot, if it wasn’t a bit of a lame attempt.

Could you please keep praying for us? Especially for sweet Kate and the babies. I had to pop a lingering African fly larvae out of Cameron’s knee tonight. Should’ve been Rob, right?

Yes it should’ve.

So pray, and love on her if you get the chance.

I’m not ashamed to also report that we just got the bill for his burial site and interment. We could use your help with that if you feel so inclined.

You’re good people you. We love and appreciate you.

We’re looking forward to posting some video and images from the most epic of funerals.

And, to happier days.

(just not yet…)

xo

T

Painted by Beth Morris in Rob's memory this week...

You’ll be able to get your very own copy at his funeral Saturday.

There will be small prints or medium ones for sale and if you’d like a full size replica or even one of the four originals on canvas that can be arranged on request.

The hope is to raise a significant amount of funds to help support the Daniel Robert Hall Foundation, a foundation created to support his wife and kids and continue the work he started in Africa.

A noble cause, yes?

We’ll also have 500 sign up forms and 500 addressed envelopes and 500 packets of seed to get you started and on your way.

Yes, we’re serious about this, ’cause this is serious business and our dear man didn’t die for nothing you know.

Saturday.

T

Two of four...

Craig and Dave Hall.

At my house watching Chris Jones build.

For Robbie.

Dave kept alternately freaking me out and making me sad. Every time he’d laugh–and we laughed quite a bit–I’d almost burst into tears ’cause he laughs just like Rob. Every time he’d move I’d catch him, out of the corner of my eye, unconsciously impersonating this guy I love who’s gone.

Wild.

Lemme’ tell you about the families.

Half the Halls are ensconced at a lovely log cabin just north of the city. The kids are here, they’re settled in.  John arrives tonight. Craig and Dave will pick him up. Mom and Dad Hall drive in tomorrow.

Jim and Kathy Cantelon’s place continues to be a constant hub of activity. Flowers arriving, dear friends camped out, non-stop meals, 10 kids sometimes, the cousins. It’s pretty slammed. Fires roar in both living rooms and everyone’s talking about Rob. Memories are shared, tears are shed, food is eaten, more tears are shed, people hug each other.

It truly is like a Jewish wake, ‘sitting shiva’ for seven days.

Lemme’ tell you about the funeral.

The order is locked, the worship leaders are set. A 24 channel live recording will happen and, yes, that means there’ll be a worship album for you to buy after in support of Robbie’s foundation.

Lemme’ tell you about the foundation.

There will be detailed news soon but the short version is, life-insurance isn’t working out as nicely as we’d hoped so we’re going to have to do quite a bit more work to see Kate and the kids supported and Rob’s African work and vision able to continue.

We will launch the foundation at his funeral. Come ready to sign up and get involved. We hope to make a big difference in Kate and the kids’ lives and in Kitwe where Robbie gave his life in the service of Jesus and His mission.

Lemme’ tell you some more about the funeral.

‘Greek Food’.

Enough said.

Friday morning a group of men from Rob’s family and closest group of friends will visit his body. Please pray between 9:30-10:00am for the Lord to minister His comfort.

Friday night Rob’s family and friends will gather to celebrate his birthday.

Saturday morning we’ll see you at the funeral of the century.

Please don’t stop thinking about how you can support Rob’s foundation. We’re going to need to really dig deep.

Please be praying for the Lord to do a mighty work by His Spirit on Saturday.

Both families are looking forward to seeing you.

T

Can you believe a strike...

This is the only picture I can show you from tonight’s events.

We picked up Robbie’s body tonight.

(thank you Jesus for bringing him home to us)

Here’s what I CAN tell you.

We got to the Four Points Sheraton where the hearse was waiting. We piled in, three big men in the front seat.  ”I’ve got some bad news…” says the driver.

We can’t take much more of that.

“There’s a strike on.”

A strike on?

“Yeah, but I already talked to the strike captain and they’re going to let us through, I think…”

He thinks?

Awesome.

So we drive round, piled into a hearse, and the picket line parts, some of them take their hats off and we cruise right through.

Into the cargo area.

Forms, forms and more forms. We read ‘em in disbelief.

Heartbroken.

Hearse backs in. Forklift pulls up. We hand our iPhone to the driver, tell him how to hit ‘record’. Me and Jess lift him in ourselves. Yes we do. We love him. We miss him. We lift him in.

We got it on film for his other brothers who couldn’t be there with us.

Back into the hearse. Back through the picket line. More hats doffed.

Driver drops us off.  We stand there in the cold watching the hearse pull away with our beloved brother in it.

We drive home, mostly in silence.  I tell Jess I’m feeling a little angry at God today.

Our wives are hanging on by very thin threads and so are the grandparents and so are the kids and so are the brothers and so are the sisters and so are the uncles and so are the aunts and so are the bosom friends…

And so is my sister.

So please keep praying if you can.

We’ll look forward to seeing you Saturday.

Peace and love in the Holy Ghost.

T

Kate and Rob getting ready to leave...

Here are some excerpts from Kate’s email to her family while on the way back from Africa…