Unwinding

This is a framed picture given to MyMike when he left his job in Colorado. That's how we ended up here. Why did Mike want to throw it out last week? He might be getting a new one here. How many "best of luck" signed mats can you have in your basement? Mike's decided even if the current job he's interviewing for doesn't work out, we're moving back West. My East Coast adventure is coming to an end.

The last ten days have been among the most exhausting in my life. Packed every minute and filled with great sadness and great happiness. How can I have two dear friends, one having her funeral and another having her baby all a day apart? How can I be so happy to be moving closer to my family and away from my friends, that have served as my sisters in the best sense of the word? I don't know. This week I've just been going through the motions of everything that had to be done. I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about these things, but in my downtime today, I realized its all coming to an end too quickly. It feels like an eternity ago I sat at Amy's bedside and prayed for her to be free from pain. Today she was buried.

More than once this week Mike and I have looked at each other and said, We're just going to sit here and do nothing. We're not going to move. We're not ever going to get off this couch again. We're just going to collapse and put our minds at rest. Then about ten minutes later, the phone rings or the clock tells us its time to go, and we get up and keep going.

So much has been good and sweet. These are the memories I want to keep -

Amy was close to her dad for a reason. They had great hearts. He is a special man. He and I had several good talks this week. I am grateful to have shared those with him.

At Amy's viewing David told me the tribute I had written about her was the greatest gift I could have given him and that I captured her very essence. I felt grateful for the power of words to convey feelings and memories so very dear to my heart. The poem he read at her funeral, "The Hanging of the Crane" he shared with me several years ago, when he was worried about Amy's health and we were all sharing our love for Longfellow. This week at her funeral it took on greater meaning and I realized words were immensely helpful in my own healing this week, as I wrote and spoke and heard them.

The musical numbers at her funeral were so beautiful, performed by her neices and sister-in-law. I will always treasure those as Amy's Music - Come Ye Disconsolate and Largo by Dvorak. I also sang in my head, "God Be With You til We Meet Again," in my head for the entire day before the funeral. It just kept coming to my mind, and I realized how strongly I believe it and how grateful I am for that knowledge.

I was thrilled to get the text, "My water broke. On the way to the hospital." It also surprised me to receive the news that way. It was a first. My kids and I spent an hour in the Apple store this week and I marveled at all the smart technology and yet how no one person can create the perfection of a newborn baby. When I read 2 Nephi 11:4 the next day I felt humbled to be reminded that there is purpose to every creation and it is to bear record of the Son of God. If I don't use this technology for His purposes, then why have it? To share the good news of a new child coming to earth so fresh from Him - with the goal to return back to him - made me realize the real purpose of life hasn't changed from the 1st century to the 21st, just the means of communication.

MyBigBoy turned 18 in the middle of my most hectic week. Somehow I managed to make his card and cook him breakfast and make a special dinner though I know it was all coming together at the last minute, and not the more organized way I prefer. I was grateful for the inspiration to hold his party so much earlier and the way the Lord helped me use time efficiently all week long. He went hiking with his brother while I worked hard at home, getting caught up after a week of too much busyness, and more soon to come. He didn't complain and the next afternoon we were able to work on his college schedule again and get a class that had been full last week. He continues to be blessed. He received the Melchizedek priesthood on his birthday day also, by the hands of his father, his stake president, Pres. Mitchell, and his dear friend's father, Bro. Knudson and another friend, Bro. Zundel. Myboy is a son the Lord is pleased with and so am I. I thought no tears were left inside me, but still they came.

We spent the final days of the week with teenage boys in our home and car, driving a lot, but also sharing and eating and laughing and getting to know each other better. It was fun and sweet and I appreciated the opportunity to get to see things from their perspective. These boys didn't know each other well, but I watched them watch out for one another and be so supportive and share. They learned good things at their Youth Conference and I was reminded just how much I do like teenagers.

I also sent my two sons off on a final campout together, knowing they were making memories too. In the process of getting them ready for that, I found a college dorm kit on sale. Amy and I loved finding deals unexpectedly. Its even more fun than hunting for deals. She was the queen of bargain shopping. I'll never forget the designer dress we found for Cowgirl's Pioneer Trek for $4, thanks to Amy's suggestion of where to shop. The boys needed no designer duds, just extra socks for all the water fun they were bound to have and did.

Then there was the anxiety of an interview and the excitement when it had gone well and now the possibility of a new family adventure. Yet, we still don't know for sure, so we proceed forward "as if" and continue to pray for the best. I had a good chat with out the new bishop this week also, and was grateful to have it confirmed to me that he is the one to be here at this time and he will be wonderful. Moving brings an inevitable heartache and so I don't look at it closely. Its in my peripheral vision. I know its coming but I can't focus on it now . . . too much to do. . .

Until today, when I have finally been able to rest again and delight that tomorrow is a whole day of rest. Its my favorite of every week. This time I will truly savor it, and feel especially grateful for a Savior who provided the resurrection and Atonement and all the hope they offer. He also is a master healer. This week he took my broken heart and my insanely busy life and though tired, I was able to run and not be weary, walk and not faint. He keeps all His promises. I look forward to recommitting my promises to Him tomorrow too.

Amy

Amy died yesterday morning. I was home hosting a bridal shower. Oh, the irony. I got the call when I was across the street at Costco, afterwards, realizing once again we were out of milk. Not a good place to get news like that. Fortunately, I had just paid and could hand the recipt and cart to my son and walk out with my sunglasses on, trying to control the sobs that came so easily once I was in the car. I knew it was coming. I had taken a 20 minute nap after the shower. I was planning on going to the hospital next. I just wanted to make sure the kids wouldn't starve while I was out, as cold cereal is the food of choice when its hot and mom's not home to make something good. I thought I had a few more days, perhaps. I hoped. I don't know why. I knew when I said good-bye on Wed. it was probably my last time. I KNOW she is happier now than she has been in the last 3 months and probably feels pain-free for the first time in twenty years. I'm just going to miss her the rest of my days. I looked at our Vienna scrapbook last night. Mike thought it would make me cry. It made me smile big. There is Amy, in my favorite picture of her, as we had just gotten off the train in Vienna. Her arms are outstretched wide, ready and eager to take on our adventure, the excitement showing clearly on her face. I'm picturing her arms open wide again, greeting her grandmothers and ready for the next phase of her journey. I just pray I'll find her when I get there someday. Like I did in this life, I'll be looking for her to point me the right way. Until then, I'll never forget her. Forever she will remain in my heart.

Pianist needed

A funny thing happened. Earlier this evening I posted a message from our Primary on my personal blog instead of the Relief Society blog. Then it occurred to me a little later that was too easy, and then I saw why. . . wrong blog! Big woops!

Last weekend I scrapbooked my son's 18th birthday which was a surprise party that I threw for him on Thursday night. Technically he has another week before he's 18.

Here is his face right after all his friends yelled, "Surprise!" He loved it and was surprised. The key to pulling it off? Don't tell anyone until two days before. Yes, this was the most last-minute party ever, but it worked. I knew for over 2 months I needed to do this when he pointed out that his two sisters had both had big surprises for their birthdays before, but not him. Fortunately, he set it all up for me by telling me "the guys" were coming over to watch a favorite TV show and could I order pizzas? All I had to do was invite the girls, buy cake and ice cream, cut up a big watermelon and buy sodas and M&M's. I even had the girls tell the boys it was a surprise, and they all carried it out well!

I love his friends. I taught most of them in Sunday School when they were 14 and 15. What a blessing in his life.

Tonight I'm up because I just can't sleep. My friend, Amy, has had stroke 7, and this time I don't think she's coming out of it. I spent most of today with her though she was unresponsive. When I kissed her forehead good-bye, I knew it might be the last time. She's not breathing on her own. What to say but I love you, and Thank you for being my friend and brush away the tears. I don't have any pictures of her in the last two years. I don't know why, but I do have some from the last twelve. I have a whole scrapbook of our trip together to Vienna. She, like myMike and MyGirl don't really like their pictures taken. She would always say, I don't look like the real me, as her acromagly robbed her of her true self, but I never knew any different, so it didn't matter to me. I need to ignore that request from everyone from now on. I certainly do not have Enough. It was a hard day. My tears were for myself and those left who love her most. It was sad to see her shake with internal pain or to touch her feverish skin and not be able to cool her enough, though we tried.

Amy became my friend pretty quickly. I used to visit teach her. One time she mentioned how much her husband liked Beethoven, and I said, Mine too. We'll have to all get together. We did, and I still remember the first time they came to our house, sitting on our green sofa, she and David holding hands like newlyweds. We found ourselves laughing and talking and they begged me to play some Debussy and Mike some Beethoven. After that, everything else just flowed and we've never looked back. Amy and I were hard pressed to ever have a conversation that was less than an hour. Sometimes we'd have to schedule lunch just to guarantee we'd have enough time to really talk. Right now I miss her voice. I miss picking up the phone and hearing, "CAROLYNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" booming over the line. How do you not love someone who is THAT happy just to talk to you? I know she was like that with so many, it wasn't just me, but I loved her for it anyway. It used to be that I'd have to schedule her weekend evenings a month in advance, she was always hosting or visiting somewhere. She knew when something was wrong. One time after scrapbooking with the ladies, she called me the next day to find out what was up. I hadn't said anything, but she said "Something is up," and she was right.

She was so creative and so funny and so giving and so wise and so intuitive and so connected to my soul. We loved the same hymns, and spent one afternoon scrapbooking together, listening to the same one over and over, singing and harmonizing with it and loving it. We didn't have all the same interests but enough that being together was always interesting. I learned a lot about parenting and living with trials as I tried to emulate her. We liked the same foods so it made it easy to go to lunch and split the plate, saving our waistlines and our wallets, oohing and aahing over our excellent selection. We've cried and laughed, dreamed and traveled together, and made lots of memories. It was her idea to go camping at Rocky Gap when the cicadas emerged. How can I ever forget that? Or the day she called me up and told me when needed to take the children shark teeth hunting and we found one. There was also the time we sat on my back patio and cried at sad news, sipping our lemonades for a couple of hours or the Thanksgiving we played Dalmuti for 6 hours and were shocked at how fast that time flew! I'll miss her arm on my shoulder when she walked down my front steps to keep her balance and the excitement in her voice at whatever Benjamin's latest adventures were. I'll miss her big huge hugs and her way of making myMike always feel like the king of his castle. We shared sweet and sacred experiences, concerts at the Kennedy Center and laundry tips. But, mostly we just shared our hearts, and it is her great big heart that I will miss the most. She was real. She didn't live on pretense. She lived to give. Her dad told me today that her husband's family thinks she walks on water. She was the glue for them. She was a sparkling jewel in my life. I treasured her and enjoyed every minute with her. Her dad and I wished today that we could have her just five years more, but I think the Lord has other plans. And so, I will trust Him, even when the tears burst forth as I drive down the road, thinking of her. Or hear Andrea Bocceli sing #4 on the CD she gave me, because he sings it in Portugese, the language of her mission. She loved that experience and spoke of it frequently. I'm sure the next mission she serves she will be healthy and happy again and for that I'm grateful. Its been a long time since she hasn't physically hurt. Now my heart hurts saying good-bye.

Cards for the Troops

This is a sampling of the cards I made just before the 4th of July. I love to create. I didn't embellish them too much since I didn't know if the rules apply for sending bulky cards overseas like they do at the picky post-office which I use. They want an extra 20cents for each card, which I didn't want a soldier to have to cough up because I wanted to get fancy. Usually buttons are the bulkiest. The ribbon in a knot I feel questionable about. Hopefully it all works out. Printed a bunch of pictures early this morning. Hoping to scrapbook a few this weekend.

Catch and Release

It's been fish on the brain at our house lately. With MyGirl up at camp, and BigBuddy making sandwiches, LittleBuddy and I had some time to ourselves. He opted for a day at the lake, and had the time of his life - 7 fish and a crawfish in less than two hours. SOOO glad I had my camera to remember one of the best days of his life. And, gratefully, they all got thrown back, as I'm not the one to teach my young'uns how to gut a fish. Yuck!

Spurred on by his great feat, his siblings wanted to spend our Monday holiday, when their dad had the day off, trying their luck. This time only BigBuddy caught a couple, one a beautiful trout. But, he had to go to work in a couple of hours, so there was not enough time to make lunch out of him, and he was sent back to the river.

MyGirl was in there with her brothers, learned to cast, preferred power bait, but later put her own worm on the hook. She had such a good week at camp too as a youth leader. So proud of her!

As I was sitting along the banks of the river under a tree with my camera around my neck I thought about our freedom to enjoy this hot, but beautiful setting, with the sounds of rapids around the bend, a tweeting of birds, and MyGirl calling out to the fish, "Here, fishy, fishy." LOL In those sweet moments, I felt so grateful. My children can pick their professions and their play, how they worship, and what they say. They can vote. They can someday own property and have the opportunity to raise their children with their same values because they live in America. Heroes died for their ability to do these things. Most importantly, they know who their Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are. The Founding Fathers knew how important their God was too. They didn't want us to forget. "In God We Trust." I think we all feel a certain amount of uncertainty about the future, but I am reminded that it couldn't have felt more so than in 1776. We are so blessed!

Last week I had fun with a friend. Hi Sandy! - she said she reads my blog - wow, totally shocked, as I thought my readership was a sum total of 4, so maybe its really 5 :-),and we made cards for the troops. I've still got to take the photos of them and send them in. Once I got started, I ended up making 24 altogether. I'll be posting about that soon. I'm so glad she inspired me!



Loved the blue nail polish putting the worm on her hook. Her daddy was busy with her brother and she couldn't wait. . . Go Girl!

A little trout. He baited and waited and was victorious.



He's loving life . . . seven little fishies, caught all by himself.


And the only marine life we didn't release, though he is still very much alive - a crawfish. He lives on my front porch. He's being fed dead worms, dirt, decaying plant matter, and don't even get near him when my son feeds him. The stench . . . just warning you!