A bright light was extinguished in the universe on January 13, 2004, when 21-year old Rebekah Swanson, a college senior, died in a car accident. In More Than Can Be Measured, author Rona Swanson, Rebekah’s mother, shares her thoughts, feelings, and emotions as she and the family deal with their grief in the aftermath of Rebekah’s sudden death.Weaving in entries from Rebekah’s journal and photos, this memoir shares the wisdom and understanding Swanson gainedas she felt the stark pain of the loss of her daughter. More Than Can Be Measured narrates the story of how she sustained herself and her family through God—the anchor and strength of her faith.An intense look into shattering loss, More Than Can Be Measured shows the sweet and gentle way God tendedto Swanson’s wounds and healed her damaged heart. It communicates there is hope and help from God. Rona Swanson manages an insurance agency. She is active in women’s ministry at her church. She has written 2 other books - Fruit in its Season and Heart of Christmas. Rona and her husband Sam have 3 granddaughters and live in Visalia, California. More Than Can Be Measured By Rona Swanson CrossBooks Copyright © 2012 Rona Swanson All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4956-1948-9 Contents Preface, Prelude, A Call in the Night, Atone with Grief, Chilled to the Bone, News No One Wants to Hear, The Longest Journey, Big Sis, Un-niceties, News and Photo Albums, Who's to Know?, Making Arrangements, Plotting Together, Sweet Voiced, E-notification and Reluctant Cleansing, Demands, Precious in the Sight of the Lord, Shiva, A Weary Stand, Crowded Home, From Paralytic to Carrying My Own Stretcher, A Celebration of Life, Food, Descent into Darkness, Our Reasonable Worship, A Holiday, Gray and Gentle Day, The Burial, Coming to Grips, Lost in Memories, Try to Return, Back to Work, Computer, Back to School, Invitation, Gone Gray, Doing Well?, Daniel, Wedding Announcement, Easter, Accident Report, Pinning Ceremony, Mothers Day, Medía Contact, Wedding Day, Memorial Day, Funeral, Writing Contest, Family Reunion, Election Season and See How They Run, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Yahrzeit, Where Do We Go From Here?, Afterword, Acknowledgements, CHAPTER 1 A Call in the Night The phone is ringing. The room is pitch dark. I stumble to pick it up, noticing that the time is a little after 2 a.m. "Hello." "Is this Rona Swanson?" "Yes." "There is a policeman at your door." "Excuse me?" "This is the Visalia Police Department. There is a policeman at your door. Didn't you hear him?" "No. I was asleep. Let me just look out the window and see if he is at our home." I walked to the window and peeked down through the blinds from our second story bedroom. Sure enough, I could see a black and white cruiser parked in our driveway. I picked up the phone again. "Yes, I can see his car," I said. "I will go downstairs and answer the door." Pulling on jeans and a shirt, I ran down the stairs and opened the front door for the officer standing there, inviting him in. "Are you alone?" he asked. I looked up at him, a bit confused. "No," I said. "Who else is here?" he asked. If anyone other than a police officer was asking this, I thought ... but answered, "My husband is upstairs." "Go get him," the officer instructed. I went up the stairs to get my husband Sam. He was already awake and I explained that there was a police officer downstairs wanting to talk to us. We both went back downstairs and the officer stood and faced us. "I have very bad news," he said, drawing a deep breath. "This is the hardest part of my job." I smiled encouragement to him as he drew himself up to speak. "I have very bad news," he repeated. I nodded at him to continue. "Are you Rona Swanson?" he asked me. "I am." "Do you have a daughter named Rebekah Swanson?" I could hear my heart ...thump, thump, thump as I answered, "I do." Time slowed. The officer's eyes showed pain as he opened his mouth. My own heart was pounding, making my body feel its throb. The officer licked his lips and continued, "Rebekah was in an auto accident tonight," he said, "and she did not survive." Sam made a sound as if he had received a physical blow and I saw him staggering to the couch, holding his chest. Sam had suffered a heart attack seven years before. "Lord," I prayed, "don't let me lose him too." My own heart felt as if it had become a bird and it flew in fluttering panic into my head, its feathers flapping against my ears in an attempt to escape. I felt as if in a moment it would find an escape and just fly away. In some ways, I wanted it to, but I gently placed my hands over my ears to prevent it. The officer came closer to me. "You will need to speak to the coroner," he said, leaning over my bowed head. I began walking to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. "I can dial it for you," he offered. "I can do it," I whispered and he read the numbers out to me as I pressed the button