The beauty of the gray spaces

John and I sat in church today for yet another fast and testimony meeting- and survived (I love being able to sit with the grandparents!) There were some particularly beautiful testimonies by recently active individuals who had such pure statements of faith and hope. You could see the intense faith and strength far more than in the more orthodox statements that I heard repeatedly. (Although I enjoy each sincere testimony.)

I would like to share my testimony of the beauty I have found in the gray spaces. I've wrestled with certain historical and theological issues for years. I am at a point now where I am not comfortable saying I KNOW very much. And yet, I find that the HOPE I have is even more meaningful to me than the "knowledge" that I spoke of so glibly for the first twenty years of my life. As I navigate all the murky waters of life and strive for truth, charity, kindness and love I find I am blessed- even when it isn't with a perfect knowledge. I have found so much loveliness in facing my doubt head on, and acknowledging the role it plays in my faith journey. It has, ironically, helped me to develop a feeling of charity for others I never could when living in my more black and white world. I especially appreciated the words Elder Uchtdorf spoke in General Conference last weekend, reassuring us that we are all here to grow together and there is no "your testimony must be this tall to enter" requirement on the LDS chapel doors! I acknowledge the beauty and hope my friends and family find in their faith, and can still embrace the nuances that shape my own. I hope that all of the beatiful aspects I see in the gospel are true. I love the sense of community that can be found in the congregations and have seen true charity in action at times among imperfect people- which is a powerful and sacred thing to me. I love the concept of sealing bonds and developing true charity, and have found strength in difficult times through study and application of the principles of the atonement. I don't know - oh so many things, but I rejoice in my hope. It is enough for me to continue  trying. I'm writing this for myself and my family, but if it resonates with you I would be ever so glad. It's okay to not know. There is beauty I never imagined in navigating the gray spaces.

It sometimes feels that there is never a dull moment in our lives (; Oh, who am I kidding, we have six children, of course there is never a dull moment!  This semester has been intense. I decided in August, after intense thought, to begin pursuing a path toward midwifery certification. John has been working (and many hours of required overtime as well), teaching two evening classes, serving on the Xavier Charter School board (with 4-5 hour meetings once a month, minimum), and meeting weekly with the Elders Quorum presidency.  I've been teaching four classes and taking Microbiology and Chem 101. On top of this we have speech twice a week for Matthew, therapy for Christopher, music lessons and, sickness out the wazoo this semester, and all of the other crazy that comes with six kids! We're hanging on by the skin of our teeth and recently had a good, better, best discussion.  So many good things are going on in our lives, but we need to focus on the best. I feel like I CAN do many things, but I can't do som many things well. There is always a plate not spinning. Luckily, there are some changes taking place, and other changes we are considering since that discussion that should ease some of the craziness around here! I'm not feeling depressed- school has brought so much fun in the form of new knowledge, but I am feeling a stressed in an intense way. One day at a time! I am so grateful for opportunities, family, extended family, and knowledge.
That's my musing for tonight (:

Why I stay

It has been a long, exhausting couple of months. I experienced a still raw, somewhat traumatic experience with church leadership in June. I won't go into details on a public blog, but it was something I would not wish on anyone. Afterwards, I went and sat by the canyon with my dear John, and poured my heart out. He sat quietly and listened and told me he would support me in any decision. Late that evening, after the house was finally quiet, I sat in bed and pulled up one of my favorite Sunday reading blogs, Feminist Mormon Housewives. The article that popped up was entitled "Why I stay".  I got tears in my eyes as I read through the reasons why each one of these women choose to stay in the LDS faith. It was so beautiful and a testimony to me at that time that despite the pain, there are still reasons to stay.  Later that week, I went to the online faculty conference at BYUI. On the way up I heard about church disciplinary action threatened against two people I admired in the Mormon intellectual community.  Following so closely upon the heels of my experience a few days before, I was shocked. It shook me to my core. I prayed and pondered a great deal while I was there enjoying the camaraderie and faculty development. The clear impression I received: Stay.  It may not be the answer for everyone, it may not even be the answer for me forever, but for me right now it is the answer. Stay. I still struggle with many things, personally and spiritually.    Going to church right now is more a ritualistic act of obedience than something that feeds my soul, but I stay. I am looking for things to feed my soul and hope to find more, and hope to find continued ways to serve others within the LDS faith community.
Unrelated note- after months of waiting on his Job application and an interview delayed multiple times, then being told at the interview, oh yeah, you were supposed to prepare a presentation, John found out this week that he didn't get the CSI political science position.  It was a difficult thing, I was convinced he was going to get it, but I was wrong. There will be a history position opening in a year which he was encouraged to apply for, and will, but we don't dare get our hopes up. Right now, we are just hoping they can get him an adjunct class to teach for the fall.  I've been struggling this week with depression, in large part due to disappointment, as well as simple exhaustion from young children, a heavy workload and the strains of life.  Yesterday was particularly difficult and I went to bed wondering what I could do to "fill my bucket" so I can continue to give to others. Surprisingly, I heard from three friends on FB messenger, and won a friends little giveaway.  I usually message maybe one or two people a week, and yesterday it was a tender mercy to know of the love, care and friendship of others. I'm sure they didn't know the state I was in, but they were a true blessing to me in my loneliness. God is so merciful sometimes.

Spiritual food

I read an article the other day about the dearth of Mombloggers once your kids hit the middle school years, and realized I fit that definition! So I thought I would check in and let everyone know I am still alive.

Life, as it is for everyone, is crazy, complex, chaotic, and wonderful.  We finally signed per work for he short sale of our house on Friday and it will be finalized this week. We are so relieved about that and ready to move on. We have wonderful memories from MD, but are ready to live in the present without the heavy financial burden. We are looking forward to buying again someday when we are ready and the time is right.  I'm enjoying work- just doing three classes this semester, but with all of the sickness, appointments for the kids and such, it is enough to keep me quite busy!  John is enjoying his work at Chobani and we are both so grateful for the job. He is also busy as a board candidate for Xavier Charter School and working with CSI faculty to ensure he will have at least one class there next semester.  We are hoping to hear of a full time job opening there soon, the current political science head is retiring in a few months, but we are still waiting.  Good old waiting game- it seems there is always something you are waiting on in life.

I observed today that I rather enjoy the Sundays where I am home with a sick little one.  I always get more out of them than I do at church. I had a lovely afternoon, sitting by Christopher and Matthew working together, and reading a fantastic exegesis of the fourth servant song in Isaiah 52-53.  The main reasons I continue going to church despite the difficulties (evolving faith, John working every other Sunday, 6 kids) is NOT for the incredible enlightenment I receive there.  Nor, in this ward at this point in time, is it for the warm loving community.  It is for the possibility it holds.  For once in the week I can step outside myself, my family, and serve in a larger community.  I may not usually get much, but by golly I am going to take the opportunity to give something.  I also love the glimpses of wonderful doctrine or charity I occasionally glimpse.  So, I'll be at church next week (knock on wood) although I have found that in some ways my soul is more fed from the quiet Sundays at home.

Interesting the things we do in an attempt to keep the faith.  Now if only that faith could give me more of that strength I am so ravenously craving at this point in time with some parenting difficulties and other life circumstances.  I will keep on looking for it though. There is so much beauty in the world and I am grateful to see it in my family, my students, and the beautiful creations all around me.

Remembering

While it was so difficult to see John's father leave the house for hospice home care, it was also such a blessing to see him resting peacefully. The hospice home was wonderful! They took such good care of their patients, and Papous was always washed and groomed with a different, fun hospital gown each day he was there. There was a small room for the children and we would sit and color, have a cookie (fresh each day!) and watch a video as people took turns visiting in pairs. There was also a beautiful garden and swimming pool and we were able to swim one morning as a family, which was a lovely respite during a very stressful time.  It was so bittersweet to visit him those last few days. He never remained consciousness, so it seemed he was lingering in an phase in between life and death. Anna had just learned to say "pous!" and would greet him, and Lori and Sophia, blessedly, had a very limited understanding of the circumstances.
I feel one of the most difficult things I encountered during the whole experience was helping my Theodore and Christopher say goodbye. It brought me to tears each time we visited a and sweet Christopher's eyes would fill with tears. He had corresponded a bit with Papous and is at an age where hi is really beginning to comprehend concepts like death. It pains any parent to see their children suffering, and crying with Christopher as we sat with Papous is something that I will always remember, it has shaped my soul- I hope with more empathy and compassion for the struggles each individual has to face at some point in their lives.
As the weekend approached we knew he would leave us soon, the only question was when.  On Thursday evening the dr. on call called Noreen and said he didn't think he had more than 12 hours left.  We took turns sitting with him, John, Noreen and Louis, until about midnight when at last everyone had retire to their homes to get some rest. After John and I had passed a restless night I. Awoke him at 6:30 telling him that he should go be with his father. His dad kept on hanging on, although his systems were failing. John spent most of the day there, and I took the children by that day for one last visit, if they wanted. Around 4 the dr. performed a check and found his blood pressure was 40/0! He should not have been breathing at that point, but for some reason he was still hanging on.  We wondered if perhaps he was waiting for Louis to come when he got off work at 5. I took the children to their cousins to hang out as the vigil continued. It was nice to see the children playing happily together despite the stress of the situation and impending loss. Sometime after 7 we heard the phone ring. No, Papous hadn't passed, Louis was going to the gym as there was still no change. Shortly after that call the phone rang again, this time with the dreaded news. When Louis went to the gym, John had stepped out briefly as well, in order to eat some salad that had been brought in. Papous was with his love as she held his hand. John was, understandably, quite upset at first. He had spent hours and hours with him, but the moment he left, everything happened. As he walked back to the room though, and saw his Mom and Dad sitting together, he saw it differently. Perhaps his Dad was waiting for those few moments alone with his sweetheart, or perhaps he wanted to spare his sons the trauma. We will never know, but John said it was a touching tableau.  After the final goodbyes had been said John and Louis came and John and I were able to head home. Along the way we were prompted to get some ice cream for Noreen. A silly thing, but sitting together sharing a favorite treat that evening eased a difficult night somewhat.
There are still a few things I'd like to share, but once again, I am going to call it a night.

Papous

This year has been a difficult one. 2012 was not a great year for our family in many ways, and 2013 has shaped up to be very difficult as well. Luckily, there are always blessings to be found, and good opportunities amidst challenges.

We arrived in CA none too soon. Arriving on a Tuesday, we had no idea just how quickly he would worsen. It was so good to see him and Noreen, and he was able to sit up in the hospital bed and visit for periods. His head wound from the cancer looked so painful and I was worried the children may be frightened or worried but they took everything in stride. I was so proud of them. Anna was quite shy, but that was pretty normal for her.

There were a number of things I will always remember about that week. I was able to cook a number of good meals for everyone and Papous relished them, even complimenting them. If you knew him, you knew that a compliment on a meal was a rare prize, so it meant so much to feel of use in that regard! He was so sweet those last days. My favorite thing, by far, was watching John help take on  so much of the routine necessary care for his father as he declined. I saw such goodness, nurturing, and pure love in the way he lifted him, fed him, sat with him, spoke with him, and enjoyed every minute. It was such a gift to be able to serve him at the time and see those good qualities I see in John  magnified.

As our first weekend rolled around we knew he was continuing to decline, but truly had no idea we had less than a week left with him. In many ways it was like caring for a small child, he had many needs and needed help with every facet of his life. For a man like him who had always been so vigorous and active, it must have been very difficult to be bedridden at the end. The children were amazing through all of this. Lori developed some serious attitude with Yia Yia, but after the chaos of the previous month or two I didn't really feel I could blame her! They all enjoyed coming in to see Papous. Anna would often stand in the doorway of his room and just watch John care for him. As he became more weak and disoriented they adapted and continued to enjoy bedside chats. The last free days at home were difficult. He was having a lot of trouble sleeping and had begun moaning nearly constantly, and demonstrating agitation.  We were doing everything we could to keep him comfortable, but I believe he sensed the end was near and felt unprepared. He had sweet conversations with Noreen during lucid moments and it was so neat to see that. There was one particularly humorous night. He'd been having a difficult night, and John and I had come in to see if we could help Noreen with anything as she cared for him. He must have noticed the serious looks on our faces, because he burst out with "What's going on here?! Somebody die or something?" It took al John and I had not to laugh. Later that night we laughed and cried together  at the little glimpse of Papous' wry sense of humor, morbid as it was that night. On the Monday before he passed Papous stopped eating. We offered his favorites, but to no avail. It was so hard to see tat, perhaps harder on the caretaker than him. We knew it was part of the process, but I don't think any of us wanted to believe it was that close.

That evening, we had a tender family moment that John and I will treasure forever. Papous had been sleeping most of the day but was awake that evening. John was sitting with him and we brought Matthew in. If you knew Papous, you knew he LOVED babies. He had a way with them and enjoyed playing with them, swinging them, and so many other loving actions. Also, Matthew was still a very clingy infant. He was not warmed up to Papous much yet, having barely given him a few smiles. However, that night Papous cooed and smiled at him with more energy and animation than he had all day, and Matthew reached for him! Papous put his arms out as Matthew crawled onto his lap and laid his head, and the look in Papous' face was one of sheer joy. It still brings tears to my eyes. It was so sweet to have such a tender memory of the two of them together. Matthew will never know his Papous but I can tell him with no reservations that his Papous loved him so. That was the last truly lucid moment with him,

The next day, after a sleepless night and agitation that couldn't be treated at home, the difficult decision was made to take him to the Hospice home for care. It was emotional for everyone as the ambulance came to transport him and he left. Knowing it would be the last time he left home was difficult, and everyone was trying to handle it on very limited sleep.  More to come- Sleep beckons.

Where to begin?

You know, I've  been thinking of the blog for a while, wanting to remember some experiences and feelings while they are still fresh, but every time I consider beginning, I think "Where do I begin?!"

Well, you've got to begin somewhere, so I'll just share a few thoughts. I hope someone somewhere reads this, maybe down the road (: