I liked the way it felt

Amazingly, enough time has passed that my oldest is going onto junior high next year.  I am refusing to let it freak me out that she is getting closer to that time when she will no longer be here at home or let it make me feel old.  Because I am not.  Mike will always be 8 years older than me, so I am not old.  

Katie brought a flier home a few months ago announcing that she wanted to take band next year.  Now, we did piano lessons before, and even though she had a lot of natural ability, they never lasted.  I was a little apprehensive at first, but she likes to get good grades so I figure that will help keep practicing going for at least a year.  Last week we had to go in for a meeting with the teacher and a little "interview" to determine what instrument she really would end up with.  As we started to go into the building I reminded her that whatever instrument she picks, she will be hauling it up and down the hill to the bus stop.  I believe in giving as much information as possible before, so there is less complaining later.  

Katie had already filled out an informational sheet stating which instruments she was interested.  At the time she had put trumpet and flute.  Well, she wasn't really thinking flute anymore and had added trombone (why we had the little reality check about hauling), but wanted to try out all three to see if she could actually produce a sound.  She was able to do all three, which I was impressed because I never could on my old roommate Maren's flute.  Thinking about the position you have to have your lips in makes my lips hurt.  I haven't even tried the other two.  

The teacher asked her which one she wanted to play, and she responded that she wanted to play the trombone.  He was pleased as there are usually never enough trombones in band.  I was a bit surprised, but my daughter has never been the traditional girly girl worrying about how something might make her look or what is traditionally thought as girly.  

When we got in the car to go home I asked her why she picked the trombone.  Katie responded that she loved the way it felt on her lips.  I laughed.  Of course!  I love my girl.  She has always been a very tactile person, wanting to touch things and see how they feel.  Apparently, she got that from her dad.  The flute definitely didn't do it for her, the trumpets mouth piece was good but a little to small, but the trombone, she could get her lips all the way in that thing and it felt great to her lips.  Starting in July at band camp, my Katie is a trombone player.  Go get 'em!

Why did we get such a big house again?

Every May, Mike and I usually head off to the happy land of National Boy Scout Meetings, somewhere in the United States.  Which means, since my kids are not yet to the legal age of watching themselves for a few days, we have someone take them or come and watch them for us.  Before we moved here we had to make plans to fly them back to California less than a month after landing in Utah.  They were scared to death of flying alone, but it was a great experience.  I have a wonderful Sister in Law and Brother that took care of them like their own children (but they didn't make them do as many chores, lucky kids.  I am not as nice...).  The next year they stayed with friends here and had a wonderful time.  We have been very blessed.

Last May, my Mom was able to come out again to help and visit for a month.  My cousin was getting married in the middle of June and instead of flying back and forth twice, she stayed.  It was so much fun! After all the years that I have lived far from home, having a visit for that length of time was a real treat for me and the family.  Mike and I were gone for the meeting the first week of her visit and then got to be with her the rest of the time.  

The first Monday that we were back Mike turned to me and said, "Your mom should just come and live with us."  Now, this was not completely out of the blue.  Before my dad passed away, we told her several times that if she ever wanted to come and live with us, we would love to have her here with us.  Now she isn't even 65 (for 1 more day), so she is not the age that most would probably consider doing such a thing.  However, she is legally blind and that means that she can see well enough to do things and get around, but she can't drive anymore.  In fact, she hasn't driven in over 12 years.  

Thursday night rolled around and, again, Mike said, "Your mom should really just come and live with us."  Again I told him, as I had on Monday, that when and if she was ready she would tell us.  

Friday morning, I was in the kitchen doing something and she came up to me and said slightly nervous and apprehensively, "I have something to tell you."  

Now, I have learned from my friend Jeralee, that because I am a people pleaser, I am always fearing that I am in trouble.  I have to get over that, because it is really annoying.  So, I rushed, "I know I could do better on my parenting,"  

She laughed and said, "No, that is not what I am talking to you about at all, and I think you are a great parent!"  (Well, now that you have said that, of COURSE I am!)  She paused and then said, "I think I am going to move in with you."  I think my response was of my mouth dropping open and then a shout of excitement and then she told me how she came to thinking about it.  She couldn't get the thought out of her mind all week as she was going to bed.  She went to sleep thinking about where she would put her stuff, where to move things.  She woke up thinking about it as well.  These thoughts had not been on her mind before she came and they were not invited there.  She felt a little perplexed by it all, probably especially since so many of her children and a sister lived in California.  I then told her that I could answer for Mike as well and that it could not have been coincidence that he said, not just once, but TWICE, how she should move in with us just that week.  We hadn't spoken about it for months before that.  

She still felt like she had to think and pray about it.  And by Sunday she felt like she had a confirmation with all of the thoughts and feelings that she had that she was supposed to come.  My mom really didn't understand completely why (I think she understands more now), but within four months she had moved in with us into our daylight windowed, walkout basement that she calls home.  She has two bedrooms, her own (much smaller than her old) bathroom, and a living room with a fireplace and a place for her huge office desk.  It was hard to leave kids and grand kids and her home and friends behind in California, but she has been amazing at reaching out and meeting people in our neighborhood and ward.  

Now we'll be "real" here for a short moment.  (And I hope my family does not think me ungrateful)  There have been a few bumps as the kids adjusted to another motherly figure around (back-up for mom! Woohoo!) and she has been so wonderful in trying to just remain grandmotherly (dang it, less back-up) when the law needs to be laid down.  But those things have been minor and, I think, mostly overcome and it has been a joy to have her here!  We laugh and talk a lot.  I have to fight her off in the kitchen to do dishes (I know, crazy, but I don't want to abuse the help).  It is just so nice, after all of these years, to have her close again (and no, not a little too close)  In some ways, that someday I may elaborate on, it has saved my relationship with my own daughter.  

So when we bought this huge house, almost a thousand square feet more than I had wanted and swore I would never have again, I couldn't understand why this house felt so right when we wasted so much of its space.  I spent a lot of time thinking about how we could use it better (rent it, adopt, foster, missionaries).  Why?  I love this house.  I love so many things about it.  But I just didn't understand, why this big?  All the pieces fell into place when my mom told me that she was going to move in with us.  In one moment, all of that space made sense.  And it is no longer wasted, it has purpose, and one of my best friends living there.

Depression...It's been...awhile.

So it has been awhile since I have blogged on this thing and I got a reminder from Tamara that it was about sweet time for me to update.  That was awhile ago, I know, but it has not left the little corner of my brain reminding me that I need to.  My kids have also missed seeing the updates and pictures and being able to go back and reminisce about the things that have made us laugh.  That truly is important in our lives.

Life was hard.  Maybe to others it wouldn't seem like it, but it was for me.

I have discovered that I suffer from depression...and it isn't going away.  I also came to realize that in order for me to enjoy my family and life the way it was meant to be, I needed medicine.  The process to find the right medicine isn't as easy as pulling a bottle of ibuprofen of the shelf and it taking care of your aches, guaranteed, to at least some level.

So, I used one for awhile, but it caused insomnia.  Lack of sleep and laying awake while exhausted makes me irritable.  Enough said.

Then I started in on another one, and boy could I sleep!  I can't remember, but I wonder if it was around the time my dad passed away, because it took me a looooong time to realize that it wasn't just sadness about my dad passing away and my mom getting cancer.  And I would have been sad and grieved, but with this medicine I was sleeping nearly every day in the middle of the day and wasn't able to take care of my family or be a part of their lives the way I wanted...oh yeah, wasn't that why I was on medicine in the first place?  In many ways, it was worse than before the medicine.  Recently I finally realized that I had A LOT of guilt about how that YEAR and a HALF that was lost out of my life.  I think I was also finally able to own that feeling (even though I don't have to own the cause) and move on.

Finally in August I pulled myself back into my doctor's office and she tried again (and yes, I am getting a new doctor, but that is a different story).  This time, bingo, it's working for me.  I finally was getting dressed by a decent hour, making kids lunches, making dinner on a regular basis and being the mom and wife I have wanted to be.  And it just keeps getting better as I realize that I am able to do more and stretch my wings again.

Now, many might be thinking, if you have even reached this far in the post, why am I sharing such a personal thing?  Because, I think there are a lot more people out there that have problems that may need help.  Get the help you need because, it can get better.  I just recently found out from Mike that he feels that when we were in Arizona and I wasn't getting any help that I was really depressed there too.  I thought I was doing well there.  And when I was going through the long haul on the second medicine, he just prayed that it wouldn't last forever.  I am sure it was harder on him than I will ever know and vice versa, for very different reasons.  But in the end, it has all been worth it.  And Mike is glad I am back...badaboombadabing baby!

Cancer Sucks, Strike 3!

(July 2008)

Someone apparently thought that things were just going to well this year or maybe that we just should get all the ugly stuff taken care of all at once.  Whatever it was, I don't agree.  My mom came out to my house the first time since my dad had passed away at the end of June so that she could come and be here for Christian's baptism as well as visit.  (yeah, I know, waaaaay behind on blogging.)  I was so excited for her to come. 

After the kids had been dismissed from dinner and flitted away to play with friends until the sun went down, my mom cleared her throat.  " I have something to tell you," she said.  I knew right then that she had cancer.  One of the times I had been home a few years back she needed a ride to get a mammogram because her doctor had been concerned.  Everything checked out fine at the time, but it was always in the back of my mind since her side of the family has tons of cancer in its history.  Yay, me!

She had already beat uterine cancer about five years ago, that was strike one.  My dad having died so recently was strike two.  Now we had strike three.  She had just had a biopsy done right before she came to my house, so wasn't sure what they were going to find, but she was pretty sure she had breast cancer.  When she got home from my house two weeks later, the doctor confirmed the findings.  She asked Mike and I if I would come out and help her for the surgery if she had to have one.  Mike's schedule is always pretty crazy, but he said we would figure it out and yes, I would be there. 

We thought the surgery would be about a month before school started, so it would not be a problem for me to take the kids so that I wouldn't have to worry about Mike's schedule.  I didn't find out until I was at my sister's house in Oregon at then end of July that it was going to be the day after school started.  My mom and I had talked previously about how that would be the only way I wouldn't be able to come.  How would Mike be able to take care of the kids while I was gone?  He was going to be in Florida the first three days of school and it would be the first two days of me being gone, but I couldn't, who would take care of my kids?  I was so crestfallen (yeah, I got that from the thesaurus). 

When I got to my mom's house a few days later (I was traveling around to see family while Mike was at the National Boy Scout Jamboree) I pulled aside my aunts, at different times, who both happened to be there to ask them how she was doing.  They both said separately how she was really devastated when I said I wasn't going to be there, but she picked herself back up and was doing better.  Of course, all of this was made harder by the fact my dad had just passed away less than 5 months before.  I asked my mom the next evening what she needed from me.  She has a hard time asking anyone to do anything for her, she has always been the one serving us (and she does that to the highest degree).  She broke down and said that she was scared about the surgery and finally admitted that she wanted me to be there.  I started looking at different things and finally got a hold of Mike in Virginia (NOT easy) and found a way while using faith, that I could come again.  When I told my mom, who had been so stoic about me not coming, that I would be coming, she was so relieved.  Now, not that many other people didn't offer help, but it was nice for me to be able to go and help.

After staying with her for that week, we found that it really was a blessing that I would come after school started.  The kids were a little louder at her house while we had been visiting than is really good for someone recovering from surgery.   I was up in the night a lot helping with medicine and other things, so I needed naps too (sleep is something my kids don't think I need). 

I am so glad that I finally got a chance to be of great service to my mom after all she has done for me.  It was so nice to be there with just her for almost two weeks.  I am grateful for a husband and awesome neighbors (who took care of my kids for two days while Mike was gone) that enabled me to go.  My family has so rallied around my mom and all want to help out.  When I left to go back home, my mom was still not ready to be on her own, but she was well enough to go and stay with my sister who is less than an hour away until she was.  Although not a fun thing to go through, she was so grateful for the opportunity to be there with my sister and her family and seeing how they functioned as a family.  Something she hasn't had an opportunity to do since they live so close.  Little blessing amidst the trials. 

Cancer Sucks, but she is doing well and we have great hope for her outcome.  She has just had her second of four chemo treatments and other sisters are going and helping her too.  My brother's family in town has been going and cleaning her house and getting groceries.  My aunt who lives close is always helping with driving her to appointments and anything else.  We all want to serve.  Perhaps the sweetest experiences come through our trials.  It was a sweet time to be with my mom.  I look forward to being with her other times when she is well again, but serving brings about a deep bond of love.  I am grateful for my mom's example in my life and the strength she has been to me and I count on her to continue being around to be that example once she kicks this cancer too!

Cancer Sucks!

I have seen that sticker or saying many times and thought, that is just a little crude and in your face. After this year, I have to agree, Cancer Sucks!

This particular post has been needing to be done for a long time.  However, as you will understand, it was just really painful and something I wasn't up for.  As you know, my dad had cancer. About a year ago, this time, things started to go down hill really fast. He was really sick at this time of the year and we were getting ready to attend a funeral. Amazingly, he pulled through and after much prompting from my sister, we were all able to see him at Thanksgiving. He was definitely weaker, the cancer was taking its toll. However, we were able to be with him and talk to him and have a wonderful Thanksgiving. All my siblings and their families but one were able to be there. My brother just lives too far away.

(My dad with my nephew at Thanksgiving)

By this time, my dad was weak enough that he was no longer able to go into work.  Whenever I called home, which is almost daily, I got to talk to both him and my mom.  It was nice to have that daily connection with him.  As time worked into the end of January things started to get worse again.  By February, he was going into the hospital almost every week as he was getting sick and his body was having difficulty fighting it.  On March first, my dad made his way back to the ER one more time.  When I called things weren't going well.  It looked like his organs were going into failure.  He had turned around so many times, my mom wasn't sure it was going to stick.  I convinced her to let me start calling the siblings so that they could go and be there with him when and if he passed away.  Even I was getting ready.  Later that day I called and talked to one of the nurses who was attending him and she said that he had stabilized.  When I explained that I lived far away and needed to know how fast I needed to get there, she said he was fine right then.  I decided that I would get the whole family ready and we would leave the next day.  I should have followed my instincts to just go, but I also felt very peaceful about leaving the next day with Mike and the kids.

March 2nd came and my sister went down to sit with my mom at the hospital as she lived within an hour.  By the time my mom and sister got to the hospital, things were starting to go downhill quickly.  Had my mom known that it was going to go so quickly, she would have stayed with him the whole night.  But she had also been reassured.  My sister called saying that I needed to get there as quickly as possible.  I got to talk to my dad clearly, one more time.  He wasn't feeling good and didn't really want to talk.  I told him that I didn't think I would get there in time and that I loved him.  He got choked up and told me he loved me too.  Then I hung up...and sobbed. 

Mike had been working crazy hours that week, so he was exhausted.  I knew that I could not leave him to drive the whole way while I flew ahead.  I had always said that if I didn't make it in time that I would be okay.  I had been able to spend 3 weeks with my parents the summer before, which is more than a lot of people get.  I had, luckily, gone home for Thanksgiving.  We finally got all the laundry we would need for a week done, got the kids and headed for California.  We knew we would be driving well into the early morning.  I knew it was a long shot that I would get there in time. 

Little miracles happened for us on the way, in the midst of our trial.  Around 10 o'clock I was driving as Mike was exhausted and I passed a Nevada Highway Patrolman going 80mph.  Right on the dot.  Now, I think it was because I swerved a little bit when I passed him that I got pulled over, because he surprised me when he didn't have his lights on at all and all the sudden, there he was on my left as I was passing someone on my right.  My heart sank as I saw the lights go on and we slowed down.  I was already emotional and was mad that they pulled me over in the first place.  The normal speed limit was 75 and in Nevada, 80 isn't usually a problem.  He came up next to us and as we were looking for our insurance and registration started asking us the usual questions.  Only problem was, I had cleaned out the glove compartment a few days before and apparently threw away all pertinent information for driving legally.  We feverishly kept looking as I muttered "I can't believe this" under my breath.  He asked us if we knew that this was a ticket as well and we responded that we did.  After a few minutes, and after we revealed why we were on the road in the first place, he volunteered that they were really just pulling people over to make sure that they were awake enough to drive (and probably not drunk).  He told us to pull over at the next exit and find our paper work (yeah right) and then continue on.  The Lord had to have softened his heart, because it really didn't make sense, but I was so grateful.  We pulled over just a half a mile ahead and Mike and I switched places as I was shaking so bad at that point.  We didn't speed the rest of the way.

By 10:30pm I called the family, that were all there, but my brother from Indiana.  They put me on speaker phone so that I could talk to my dad.  He was on a lot of morphine at that point and his speech was a slurred so that my siblings had to relate to me what he was saying. I told him how far away I was and that I knew he was in an immense amount of pain.  I told him that he didn't have to hang on for me to get there, that I knew he loved me and that we would get to see each other again.  It was wonderful and sad to talk to him one last time.  I hung up and sobbed. 

After I was able to get composed again, I called back and asked if I could just be on speaker phone with them and listen as they were all gathered around.  Of course, they did.  I just sat and listened as we traveled across the dark Nevada desert.  My brother Clark finally got there and I heard as they got to talk to each other for a very brief time before my dad went to sleep.  We got to the Sierra's and it was snowing. We had to stop and put chains on the car.  We let them know that we would call back as soon as we were on the road, but that we would now be at least another 2 hours longer as we would be going very slowly over the pass.  After much difficulty getting the chains on we got back in the car and started to go.  Shortly after my dad passed away at 12:58pm on March 3rd, the family called me and told me he was gone. 

I can't describe how I felt.  I knew without a doubt that I was where I was supposed to be at that time.  With my own little family, traveling with them for their safety.  I wish I had been able to be there with the rest of the family in his hospital room and been able to give him one last hug while he was alive.  But I knew that he loved me and I knew that he knew I loved him.  Katie was awake for that last hour listening to everything that was going on.  Christian woke up after my dad had passed away and we talked for at least an hour about Grandpa passing away and what that meant.  That we would see him again in heaven and that I was sure that we would feel his spirit especially during the time right after his passing and the funeral.  Katie piped up, "I think he is here with us right now, I really feel the spirit strongly".  I am sure she did.  It was a very sweet time to be there with my kids and talk to them as all of this was going on.  I was where I was supposed to be.  I was okay that I wasn't there.  That time in the car with the kids and Mike was very spiritual and I was glad that I was with them. 

The next day, after we had slept at my sisters house enough to get by, we drove from my sisters house down to my mom's to be with everyone for the day.  Walking into my parents house for the first time since he was gone was overwhelming and I just cried and hugged my family.  I wanted to go and see my dad, so my mom and two of my sisters Saralyn and Barbara went with me to the mortuary for support.  It was really hard, but I was so glad to go and see him and have that closure.  We cried, we hugged.  He looked so peaceful.  No longer in pain.  But I still missed him.  As I drove them back to Moms house I just listened as everyone was talking.  And as we got to the corner of March and Pacific in Stockton, I will never forget how I felt.  It was like I was getting a warm hug from someone.  Not a freaky feeling.  Just the warmth of a hug as I was thinking about my dad.  I knew he was there.  I didn't say anything to anyone at the time.  But I had gotten my hug.  I had been where I was supposed to be and I still got my hug in the end.  You can say I imagined it, that I wanted it that bad, but I wasn't even thinking about wanting that at the time. 

If you can have a good week after someone you love has died, we did.  All of us felt so buoyed up.  Friends of my moms brought food over for us.  Flowers were sent. and we got the chance to be with family for a whole week with nothing else interrupting.  It was a very spiritual time. 

By the time the funeral came we were nearly cried out.  It was hard when they closed the casket for the last time.  We followed the casket down the hall into the chapel of the church.  There wasn't a Sunday before my dad's funeral for it to be announced at church.  However, when we walked into the chapel we were blown away as it was packed with people all the way through the overflow.  We were so touched!

 (My Mom and my Dad's Brother, very sweet)

Can funerals be funny?  Of course, when planned by your father they can have some humor.  Since my dad knew that his time was close he chose the songs and who he wanted to do what.  Our first hymn we sung was "Onward Christian Soldiers".  As you get to the chorus you sing "Happy are we, happy are we!".  We just started laughing quietly with our shoulders shaking, because, we were sad dang it, not happy.  It was just ironic that we were singing that at the funeral.  We tried so hard to stop, and we did, but we laughed each time we got to that part. 

(The Burial on Monday, they were not open on Saturday)

The months that followed were very difficult for me personally.  I didn't realize that even though I know that I will see him again, have a testimony of a life after this one, how hard it would be.  My mom shared a quote with me from Neal A. Maxwell.  Paraphrasing, he said that going through the grieving process is part of our mortal experience.  We all grieve.  At the time of my father's death I also thought about how even Christ mourned and cried with Mary and Martha for the loss of Lazarus whom was also a close friend of Christ's.  Of course, he then raised him for the dead.  Grieving is needed.  It is healthy.  And there is no loss of faith. 

I am so grateful for the plan of salvation, because I know this is not the end.  I will get to see him again.  Apparently, my dad was a bit agitated that I might not get there before he died.  Someone told him that he just needed to hug me as soon as he saw me again in heaven.  I look forward to that day, not too soon, but I look forward to a time when I will be in heaven with my family, my Savior and my Heavenly Father again someday.

God be with us till we meet again!

Hacking Update, Safety for You!

After two days of trying to sort everything out, (it still isn't), I ran into a friend that is a very smart techie.  She is a certified Hacker herself, which she uses in her job to hack back at people that try to hack her companies website and/or computers.  So after telling her the brief synopsis of what happened and how I thought that it occurred she told me that it was most likely NOT my phone being hacked.  That is technically more difficult and most evil (my term, not hers) hackers go for the easy kill. 

My techie friend said that most likely they came through my computer.  I was shocked.  No way, I said, I am so careful.  She asked if my firewall is up.  If it is not, they can access your computer and see everything!  Of course, I had firewalls.  She said that having two firewalls up is like having two locks on your door, most thieves won't bother going through two, but they will go through one.  It is apparently not that hard.  I came home and I did have two, windows firewall and my Norton Antivirus also had one.  She suggested ZoneAlarm Firewall which is free.  I put that on also.  So now I have three.  Bring it on evil hackers.  On second thought...don't. 

When I got home and started talking to Mike I gasped.  It was HIS computer!  I had just used his in the last week to check my email.  And he doesn't keep his laptop from work current.  No antivirus and only one firewall-which the definitions were not up to date.  AAAGGGGHHHH!  Mike said, "Ooops!"  So I spent the next hour or two downloading the free Norton Antivirus from our Comcast account, updating and scheduling automatic updates for his windows firewall and then installing the ZoneAlarm firewall too.  My friend will be coming over later this week to hack back at the person(s) that did this to us and get back at him.  In a very legal way of REPORTING them to the POLICE.  Jerk(s). 

She is also going to help me get encryption for my computer passwords, because did you know that there is also software out there that they can put on your computer to record all of your keystrokes, send them to themselves as a text, and steal your passwords. I will pass that information along to you later also. 

Sleep well my friends.  Hopefully my pain will become your aid and protection.

Oh, and don't use your husbands computer if it isn't protected.