Good Grief.... Therapy #1

We started grief therapy two Thursdays ago and I am still feeling good about it. You know it's a good thing for all the girlies when they can't stop talking about how much fun they had and when, like last time, Eli kept asking "Are we leaving to go to therapy yet, Mom?". She was DYING to get there. My first meeting with the therapists was by myself. It was several weeks ago, and served mostly as a get-to-know session: getting to know the kids (names and ages), getting to know their initial reactions to Naki dying, getting to know their chosen form or forms of coping with this death, and overall getting to know what I wanted to accomplish and my insights into the entire situation. I prefaced one of my questions with "I know it's almost impossible to answer this question..." and then asked them how long they thought this process might take. They, as I expected, can't put a real timeline on healing, but did say that you can tell if the girlies really need it if they keep asking to go, and that the opposite was also true. If you told them that it was time to go to therapy and they were resisting, it meant that they really didn't need it any longer. It has been fascinating to watch the girls' different emotions and reactions during the session. The therapist I initially met with practices with 2 other licensed therapists. He thought that it might be beneficial for our situation to meet first as a group and see the different dynamics that arose. It was clear at the first session that Eva was not developmentally able to hang with the other girls, as far as attention span, thought processing into verbalizing, etc. So after the first week they've separated them. Eva now goes on a separate day than the other girls...oh yay...one additional appointment I must be responsible for. I don't doubt that Heavenly Father keeps me busy now, and has always kept me busy even before Naki died, because I know myself and recognize my naturally lazy tendencies. If given the choice, I'd lounge around all day, maybe take a shower before 5:00, and rent movies with one easy click of the remote. Alas, that is not to be.

The first group session we attended was hard for me. Not only emotionally, but hard because of the girls' chaotic behaviors. They started the session by speaking with me privately to give me the opportunity to inform them of any updates that had occurred since we'd last spoken. During this chat I learned something fascinating about the brain that I wanted to share. I've always known that the brain has different areas that are responsible for different functions of our body. I learned that the area that holds Trauma and Emotion is in the back, while the area responsible for Speaking and Thought Processing is located in the front. This would explain why I feel so tongue tied when trying to express my emotions for all I'm experiencing right now. Sometimes it literally feels like there are no words in the human language to express this pain, disappointment, and shock. They then informed me that Creativity is with Trauma and Emotion, thus their reasoning for working creatively during their sessions. It occurred to me later that this may be why it has been so healthy for me to try and write creatively about my thoughts and feelings, even though at times the words are hard to find.

After our first chat we headed as a group downstairs to a huge playroom that has pretty much no furniture. It's in a basement, so to speak, so there are no windows. But there are shelves surrounding the room at one end, and buckets of various playthings all around with a whiteboard covering the opposite wall of the shelves. It is here that they work on whatever creative project they'd planned for the session. After we finished downstairs, we headed back upstairs, where they again met with me privately to discuss any of their thoughts or insights. The first week we went downstairs as a group. The girls were, as many kids would be, in new-toy heaven. Everything there was new to them. Subsequently, when they were told by the therapists to come have a seat, they were not the best listeners. The purpose of the first session was to start helping the kids develop some trust. They did puppet play, which was fascinating to listen to. They asked all of us, me included, to go and pick a puppet out of this huge pile that we felt would best represent ourselves. Then we were supposed to use the puppet in a short skit to tell about ourselves. I was seriously impressed with the therapists as they were able to take what the kids "acted" and applied it to who the girls are individually, especially since several of them didn't really say anything about themselves, and instead acted out a scene between them and their Dad. After each girl had finished their turn, the therapists would restate what they'd learned about whomever's turn it had been. They were eerily accurate. I was also seriously impressed with each of the girls. I loved hearing what they had to say, and they were so brave to just sit down and interact with these new adults whom they'd never before met. In some ways it must have felt a bit safe, because there was no right or wrong answer.

Can I just say, that I was caught off guard when it was my turn. I didn't expect to get emotional. I've heard Oprah describe herself crying as the "Ugly cry". I may have not ever seen myself cry, but I've heard myself try to talk while crying, and it just sounds ugly. Uuugh. How do those people who cry and sing at the same time do it? They look so graceful with a tear peacefully streaming down one cheek as they give their big finish...Me? Not so graceful.

The second part they asked us to do was to go back to the pile of puppets and this time we were to pick one that to each of us represented Naki. We were to act out things about Naki to both therapists, since they would not have the opportunity to meet him. Again, very amazing process, considering that once again the girls were indirect in their skits.

Well, as a side note, that's not entirely accurate, the part about not having the opportunity to meet him. Despite how miserable I am with my new widowed state, I am able to see some of the tender mercies of the Lord in my life, some of which happened long ago that I am only now able to recognize for their true purpose. One of which was Naki being able to coach Lose's T-Ball team last summer. It was the greatest experience. It was extremely unusual for Naki to be able to do such a thing with his crazy 2-jobs-or-more work schedules. I remember when we went to sign up Lose, which we did late, that they told us her team still did not have a coach. I called Naki on the spot and he agreed to do it, not knowing how it would work itself out. Of course, it did, and he had a great time with all of those beautiful kids. Instead of using the word 'coincidence', I'm using the words 'tender mercy', when I tell you that it turns out that one of the boys on the team is the son of one of our therapists. This therapist was able to have some interaction with Naki which I think is priceless as he works to help our girlies. I know this connection was one more way the Lord has allowed me to see that He loves me and thinks of me, even before I knew I needed it or in ways that I didn't see it's significance until now.

When I first met with the therapists at the get-to-know session, they informed me that when we are there I get to turn off the parent switch and let them take over. They want the kids to interract with me but not, I guess, have to worry about minding their p's and q's while I'm there. They even told me that they let the kids come in and play with all of the toys and then purposely do not make them clean up the mess. They described it as making someone eat their own throwup. Eeew, I know, but if you think about it, it does make sense. So as I sat there and watched Malia doing her skit, and Lose reached over and snatched Malia's puppet from her hand mid-sentence, I grumbled inside. Then when I watched Eli, wearing a skirt, lay on her back and lift her legs over her head, several times, I shifted uncomfortably and heroicly refrained from making her sit up and pay attention to whomever's turn it was. When they asked Malia to stop drawing on the white board and come join the group on the floor and she didn't, I bit down hard on my tongue. And when Line was trying to turn around and not look at her sisters because they were embarassing her, I didn't tell her that it would be okay. This "not parenting" thing is hard! First I complain about parenting, and then I complain about NOT parenting. So after we had finished our first puppeting experience and were going back for our second, I asked the therapists if I could tell the kids something. They said of course, and then I proceeded to tell the kids that they still needed to be respectful to each other. After I'd finished, the therapists kindly put me in my place by saying, "Don't worry about that...leave that up to us. You just come sit down." *gulp* After the session was completed, they'd informed me that next time they'll start with the kids only and work with them on whatever project they're doing for the day, and then I come in at the end to let the girls explain everything they'd worked on to me. I've been officially booted! I misbehaved. I knew better, too, but I just couldn't take all the poor behavior! They explained to me that the reason they would have me wait to come in at the end was to spare me pain from anything the kids expressed, and also to give the kids permission to express anything they felt. I've learned the hard way, when Eva has screamed to me over and over, "I Hate You!", (which she has never said and that I'd never even heard expressed in our house), that kids often blame the living parent for the deceased parent's death. They want the girls to be able to explore those feelings without me present. Otherwise, the girls never will process those emotions while I'm there for fear of hurting my feelings.

I know that some parents feel that their children's behavioral choices are a direct reflection of the parent, but not me. I know that I've taught them well. For me, when they act like they were acting, it's a direct reflection on themselves! And it was killing me to see them putting themselves out there like that. During our post-session chat, they explained to me that they were thrilled to see all that chaotic behavior coming from the girls. Their somewhat disrespectful and crazy behavior, they said, is an outward sign of their inner chaos as they confront head on all of their grief.

*lightbulb moment*

They told me that had they been able to sit perfectly still, stay on their spot, quietly walk from place to place, come when called, hold eye contact, not interrupt, etc etc, they would have been concerned. At this stage of the game, that type of behavior would mean that they would be repressing their emotions, which is not healthy for healing. So hurray for us! We're definitely on the road for healing...I'll remember that when 5 out of 6 are crying at the same time, no one will listen to me, I'M even crying, and it's only 7:30 in the morning.

Drained

Sundays drain me..I know I've said it before, but it seems even more true today. But, it's another Sunday or even another day that I don't have to repeat ever again. One more day closer to my goal, being with God, the Savior, and Naki again. So, that's something good, right? But, being so drained, I will post later. I've started a post about the therapy sessions we've attended so far, and hopefully I'll get to finishing that it soon. For all of those who read to keep up with my sweet little family, know that we feel your love and most especially your prayers...keep 'em comin.

Today

Today I dream of unconciousness...

Oh, the Trepidation...

My dad is convinced that I will do just fine, but I still feel unsettled. When Naki and I started having our precious babies, we struck a deal...and a fine one too. We agreed that I would take responsibility for the kids from 0 - 12, and he would take over after that. Sounded really good to me...shoulda known that it was too good to be true. I am much more comfortable parenting the young'ns rather than the teenagers. And he is just so dang good and smart about what they think and feel, that it was an easy decision on our part. Well, now, obviously, that just isn't going to work anymore. I'm just a tad ticked about that. I put in a lot of years on my end of the deal, and am not thrilled to realize that the rest is in my court as well, only because I am convinced that Naki would do a better job with teenagers than I would.

Well, he's not here and technically we don't have any teenagers yet. But still, I am having a bit of anxiety about making my first major parental decision without him. It involves Line, and it's scaring me. Will I make a choice that will benefit her and not place her in a position to be harmed? I really never liked the pressure that comes with this parenting thing. And Naki being gone is only making it worse. Can't they just grow up, turn out wonderful inside and out, and I can breathe a sigh of relief that I'm done with this rough and nail-biting time? Eeoohh Boy...

My 'some day soon'

Eli said to me a while ago, "I wasn't ready for Dad to die, but I'm still okay". I must second that. I will never be ready to go on without him, but oddly enough, today I feel somewhat okay with our strange life. Not happy, not joyful, not cheerful, and not pleased, but just okay. Okay enough to wake up and start my body moving in the general direction I need to go to accomplish whatever it is that I have to do today. Okay enough to cry when I want to and to not cry when I don't have to. Okay enough to be around my siblings, in laws, and their spouses, even though I feel like the odd man out. Not great, but okay. I'd say that's a bit of progress.



We went for a walk up the Provo canyon a couple of weeks ago after church. Oh, what peace it brings to my spirit to be surrounded by nature. I don't really love camping, but I love nature. Just breathing in the air, walking at a leisurely pace, stopping and starting a million times as all the little pairs of feet around me set the pace for our stroll. It filled me up. I did, however, realize a future predicament as I stood and let them throw rocks in the river. How, in the heck, am I going to teach them anything athletic? I had a vivid image in my mind of when we went to St. George this past spring. We stopped at a dam with Naki's cousin, his wife, and their children. The wind was blowing a little crazy, but all the kids were searchng the ground for little rocks to throw in the water. I have pictures of Naki teaching the girls how to skip a rock, a skill I have never been able to master. I'm lucky the rock goes foward and doesn't somehow get released on my windup, going completely the wrong way. Sounds impossible, but it's been known to happen. I want them to love doing fun athletic things the way they did when their Dad was here to do it with them. I had a moment of panic while I watched them all throwing rocks into the Provo River because I realized I completely fall short in not only that department, but many others as well. The feeling quickly subsided when I realized that they have many athletic Uncles and Grandpas that will take care of that for me. I find myself in this position often. In The Book of Mormon we are taught that we can either choose to be humble, or we can be compelled to be humble. Needing other people to do things for me that I so wish I could do for myself always brings me to feel compelled to be humble. How I wish I could do so many of the things that the girls need on my own. But I am so blessed to have family and friends who want to and are completely capable of filling in where I fall short. Not only that, but I think the girls need the interaction that comes from the time spent with all those people that love them and their Dad so.



I was reading my sister-in-law's blog the other day, well, actually, it was probably more like a couple of weeks ago. She was writing about her husband, Naki's younger brother, and his wish for time to fly. I cannot tell you how much that put into words an emotion I'd been feeling and continue to feel but hadn't been able to verbalize. In no way do I want to miss out on all the amazing life experiences and memories yet to come into my life because of my children and their futures. But if it were possible I wish I could go to sleep tonight and when I wake up in the morning I would be an elderly woman who had lived my life and completed all I knew I should, and was done. I just want to be done. Done with this temporal life and moving onto my eternal future with my best friend. But, it is not to be. I cannot wish this time away, no matter how much I miss him. I feel badly admitting those feelings because by doing so I imagine it appears to some that I have more love for him than I do for others here still alive. Not so...I know it doesn't make sense to many of you. But if you have ever grieved a loss like this, I think you'd understand. I just want to be done. I sometimes wish I could unzip my skin and crawl out of it so I could escape all the pain. Again, it is not to be. My future plays out with such contradictions in my imagination. I know that logically it must be possible to have happines and joy in my life, but don't know how that's even remotely possible. I know I'll have joy in my kids, but what about personal joy for myself? Something to be happy about and look forward to... I don't see it happening any time soon. It must be enough to seek happiness for the girlies. That alone will suffice.



I've been wanting to tell all of my loving friends and family that I promise I'm not avoiding any one particular person, if in fact you've tried to reach me and have been unsuccessful. I can't adequately describe what a day in the life of Abby is like. I may hear my phone ringing but am consoling a child, or taking a much needed nap and so ignore it. I may or may not find the time to listen to the message you left me, and may or may not find the time to return your call. I get all of your emails, but by the time I've read them I no longer have time to respond. I love texting, but get half way through a text and am interrupted. Just know that I love all of you and feel strengthened when I hear your messages and read your loving emails and texts.



I mentioned in my last post how devastated I was Friday night. I was trying to express to my Bishop on Sunday morning what is hardest about all of this, and he chose the perfect word to describe it..."companionship". I mourn the loss of companionship, in all it's variations. In many ways I'm a very fortunate widow. My learning curve for temporal situations I find myself in is very minimal since I encountered those same situations before Naki died. It is the companionship I miss the most. It really stinks to come upstairs at night and not have him there to fill in on all the details of the day and the things the kids said or did, and what does he think I should do about such and such? His insights are greatly missed and are not replaceable. That's what sent me over the edge on Friday night was the loss of the companionship that I had expected to have at times that I will no longer have it. I was crying so hard that I literally could not breathe! Not a great combination, nor all that flattering. I have a basket beside my bed that I continue to pile things that I need to read for moments just like this. When I am so distraught the only thing that keeps me anchored is to read the words of the Savior and his prophets. I believe it was the same day Naki died, or maybe the day after, that a friend dropped off an envelope with these words written on the outside.



"Abby...When I read this in my religion class today I had a strong feeling that I needed to give it to you. Maybe not for today...but for some day soon. "

Inside was a printout of the talk given by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I hadn't felt strong enough to read the words when they were given to me that day, and so placed it in my basket to read when it felt right. My 'some day soon' had definitely arrived. I opened it up and was astonished at how strongly I felt that the words I was reading had specifically been written for me at that precise moment of my life. I was in such despair, and hadn't been able to put a name to that emotion until I read his words. The talk is titled, "The Infinite Power of Hope". Naki's name, Amanaki, means 'Hope', and so reading his thoughts on hope held even powerful symbolism for me. One of the first paragraphs reads,



"...Perhaps today I could sit by your side and by the side of any who might feel discouraged, worried, or lonely. Today I would like to speak with you about the infinite power of hope."



I futher read, "Hope has the power to fill our lives with happiness. Its absence -when this desire of our heart is delayed - can make 'the heart sick'.



This touched me...my "Hope", Naki, fills my life with happiness. His absence has truly made my heart sick. As I read on I was struck by a certain part about my responsibility towards fixing the absence of hope in my life. He says,



"Hope is a gift of the Spirit. Is is a hope that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the power of His Resurrection, we shall be raised unto life eternal and this because of our faith in the Savior. This kind of hope is both a principle of promise as well as a commandment, and, as with all commandments, we have the responsibility to make it an active part of our lives and overcome the temptation to lose hope. " At this point I realized that I had chosen to wallow in the feeling of losing hope. I didn't want to feel like there was any hope for me and my temporal future. This sentence sent a jolt of recognition through me that I needed to knock it off and overcome this temptation that stood in my way. Clearly I had stumbled, fallen, and decided to stay down over my feelings of no hope.



He proceeded to talk about the opposite of hope, which is despair. As he spoke of despair I was shocked to read those words and even more shocked to realize that they perfectly described my feelings that evening. Until then I hadn't realized that despair was the word that I was personifying. It was as if I'd found despair, crawled into it, and decided that since it felt the most comfortable out of all the other emotions I'd been living, that I'd stay there with it for as long as I pleased.



"The adversary uses despair to bind hearts and minds in suffocating darkness. Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward."



Whoa. That perfectly put into words what I was feeling right then. It shocked me at what my feelings looked like in the written word. I read that paragraph over and over and over. It took me a while to let the words sink into myself and for the realization to hit me that I really didn't like the way despair fit me. I read on...



"Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of... confusion and of fear."



"Hope is not knowledge, but rather the abiding trust that the Lord will fulfill His promise to us. It is confidence that if we live according to God's laws and the words of His prophets now, we will receive desired blessings in the future. It is believing and expecting that our prayers will be answered. It is manifest in confidence, optimism, enthusiasm, and patient perseverance."



Ummm....yeah. Well, I was definitely not exuding any hope. I'd definitely dialed into despair and found I could wallow there pretty comfortably. And since then I find myself there again for a moment or two. But having read these words after experiencing such a personal tragedy I'll never be able to stay there for long. I'd never realized until at that moment how much Naki truly lived up to his name. He exudes hope.



"The things we hope for are often future events. If only we could look beyond the horizon of mortality into what awaits us beyond this life. Is it possible to imagine a more glorious future than the one prepared for us by our Heavenly Father? Because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we need not fear, for we will live forever, never to taste of death again." "No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations."



"The things we hope in sustain us during our daily walk. They uphold us through trials, temptations, and sorrow. Everyone has experienced discouragement and difficulty. Indeed, there are times when the darkness may seem unbearable. It is in these times that the divine principles of the restored gospel we hope in can uphold us and carry us until, once again, we walk in the light...Because God has been faithful and kept His promises in the past, we can hope with confidence that God will keep His promises to us in the present and in the future. In times of distress, we can hold tightly to the hope that things will 'work together for our good' as we follow the counsel of God's prophets. This type of hope in God, His goodness, and His power refreshes us with courage during difficult challenges and gives strength to those who feel threatened by enclosing walls of fear, doubt, and despair."



"There may be times when we must make a courageous decision to hope even when everything around us contradicts this hope." "Hope sustains us through despair. Hope teaches that there is reason to rejoice even when all seems dark around us."



The very end of the talk struck me so strongly. I realized that I had read exactly what the Lord had wanted me to read. It was in fact my 'some day soon' and I had learned so much. The final words of comfort read,

"And to all who suffer - to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely - I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in.



Never surrender.



Never allow despair to overcome your spirit.



Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart."




One thing I know, even when I do feel the overwhelming emotion called despair. I will never surrender.

Note to Self

If I don't want to send myself into a downward tailspin of despair and extreme bleakness, I probably should keep track of the days better. That way I wouldn't accidentally find myself at the jewelers, where I went to pick up the necklace I'd ordered to wear Naki's wedding ring around my neck, on a Friday night with all the engaged couples who get to have each other, hold each other, talk to each other, and kiss each other. Or I wouldn't find myself on a Friday date night at the mall where I went to see if my boots I'd ordered were ready. Note to self...keep better track of what day it is, and most definitely run those errands in the middle of the day instead of the night.

"You have to look good if you don't play good..."

It's raining. I love when it rains, as long as I don't have to be in it and the bottoms of my pants don't get all wet and drag on the ground gaining tons of dirt and grime as the day goes on. But rain, when I'm indoors, is one of my favoritist things. Naki's too. When it would rain we would roll the windows down if we were in the car or open all the windows if we were in the house, and try to get a big whiff of it. We love the smell of rain! Some people think we're loony, for many reasons besides this one, I'm sure, but we just can't get enough of rain-scent. It fills up our lungs and gives us a fresh cleansed feeling. I'm not describing it well, but suffice to say we love it. It was raining earlier this afternoon and I caught Malia with her head tilted back and out the car window, just trying to inhale as long as she could. Then she loudly exclaimed, "I love this smell!" I reminded her that her Dad taught her to love the smell of rain, to which she just serenely smiled. Dad memories tend to do that to a rain-cleansed girlie.

Earth angels are a new addition to my list of favoritist things. I've found them all over the place lately, too many to count. Some, I know, are even busy about their angelic work without my knowledge. It's astounding to me how much we feel loved, or I guess it's astounding to me how much we are loved. I've always known that we have good friends, but never knew we were loved like this. I'd like to think that if others were in my position I'd be half as good to them as all of my earthly angels are to me, but honestly my world tends to revolve around me and my little family. Seeing others in their service has taught me much. In fact, there's a Mourner's Bill of Rights that applies.

"Other-Service...Do something for someone else. Benefiting someone else, even when you are hurting, helps you respect yourself."

I believe that through the service given to my family by our earthly angels it is helping them to heal their own grief. I need to make sure that I look for ways to help those around me, too. I know myself well, and it would be very easy for me to continue to focus inward and take a lot of time to find ways to focus my efforts outward. I know that my family is my first priority; don't worry that I'll over extend myself. I just think there is definite truth and wisdom to this Right. I've been going through some of the things in my house that I could sell but instead am finding new and better homes for such items. It feels so uplifting to be able to give things to others the way people have given to me and the girlies. Throughout the years Naki and I found ourselves in tight spots financially and had always been rescued by someone's generosity, whether through groceries, clothes for the girlies, acts of service, or money to pay bills. I remember once asking Naki, "When are we going to be the ones to help others? When do we get to stop being the charity case?". The joke's on me...I've found myself in the ultimate charity case situation ever. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. It sure has taught me humility. It's also taught me that just because others are serving my family in a time of crisis does not mean that there aren't future opportunities out there for me to be someone else's earthly angel.

One of those earthly angels is currently working on getting my home computer back up and working. Last night it just decided it had had enough...I'm typing from my Dad's laptop, since two nights ago mine kind of pooped out on me, too. I refuse to succumb to the Computer Demons around here...I'm determined to write about my feelings no matter what. If something happens to THIS one, anyone who lives close by to me be prepared to receive a knock on your door late at night after all my girlies are asleep. It's my best blogging time. All is peaceful and I can think and type uninterrupted. So you've all been officially warned...

Lose received an Honorable Mention today at school for her Literature entry in the PTA Reflections program. Go Lose! The theme for all entries this year was "Beauty is..." and you can fill in the blank as you interpret. Her entry was, "Beauty is my birthday". Amen! All birthdays should be the best thing ever, no matter how old. I hope that when my birthday comes I'm somehow able to be happy about it even though Naki isn't around to give me birthday spank'ns.
I took pictures at the school today, and am not sure how to upload them since I'm on a different computer. I am so not computer literate. I've realized that I need to post some pictures. The purpose of my blog shifted about a month ago, and I need to remember that it originally served as a journal of fun things, too. Time to put up some fun pictures of the girls...a little bit of cheer. I'll work on that.

We have a bizarre mystery going on over here. Last night when we all went to bed there were four canisters on the kitchen counter...white flour, wheat flour, white sugar, and brown sugar. My Dad informed me this morning that he's either going crazy or the brown sugar canister is missing. I choose to believe that he didn't just misplace a whole canister, but rather we have a sneaky Brown Sugar Thief running loose amongst us. Now, there are a couple questions to ask: Who is the Brown Sugar Thief? When did the canister first go missing? Where are the contents of the canister? And the ever important question, where is the canister now? We have a couple of suspects, although they're unaware that we're on to them. We're waiting for someone to slip up and confess. We're pretty confident that this will happen soon since a couple of weeks ago we had an unprompted confession from the Shredded Cheese Bandit. They sheepishly walked out of their bedroom, head and shoulders slouched over with guilt, one arm extended straight out with the almost empty bag of shredded cheese held in their hand, and confessed that they had been keeping it as their own secret cheese stash in between their bed and the wall. Oddly enough, it still felt cold since the wall was an exterior one. Maybe we should be more concerned about the lack of insulation in the wall since it kept the cheese somewhat refrigerated and fresh. I've already checked their previous stash location with no success. We'll find out more as they slip up, I'm sure. Either that or we'll have some informants step forward, soon. They always do.

Many of you know of my Dad's love for golf. I have vivid memories of my childhood in Pennsylvania. We lived on a beautiful piece of land smack in the middle of Amish Country. I remember hearing all of the horses and buggies driving to church every Sunday, and then getting on the road to drive to church ourselves and seeing all of the marks on the road from the wheels of their mode of transportation. We had three acres or so of land with a barn and my Mom and Dad's Pre-Civil War-built dream house on it. I love thinking of the picture I have in my head of my dad, standing in the yard, practicing his golf swing and golf hitting, whatever that's called, (I'm not very golf-savvy), because raising a family of 10 kids doesn't provide an allowance for golfing. He now is able to golf on a regular basis and in my not-so-humble opinion, is very good. On one of the nights since he's been here we were chatting about the fun golf clothes that he's seen, and some that he's acquired. In his words, "Well, you have to look good if you don't play good". I knew then that I wanted to use his words as part of one of my posts. It fits perfectly with one of the Mourner's Bill of Rights. This Right states,

"Self-Service...Do small acts of service for yourself. Don't expect others to. Have a warm bath at night. Buy yourself a bouquet of flowers. Listen to music. Remember that others cannot know your thoughts and needs so you must be your own 'best doctor'."

At this point, my small acts of service to myself have been fun trips to some new favorite stores to acquire some jeans and shirts that actually fit...and maybe a pair of boots or two that I've always needed but never got. I admire ladies who can make do with what they have. Truthfully, I do, especially since I've been one of those ladies my whole life. I know what it takes to sacrifice things you love so others around you have what they need. I don't say this to be boastful in any way, but instead to show that having been on one side of the extreme of not having much I understand the importance of being able to give to yourself sometimes in order to be strong for those around you...filling up your own bucket, so to speak. There are many different ways that we all need to fill up our buckets...mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. But I believe there is something so strengthening and confidence-boosting in covering yourself with things you truly love and more importantly with things that help you love yourself. Sounds hokey, I'm sure, to some of you, and maybe even materialistic. But for me I've experienced both extremes, sacrifice and giving to yourself, enough to realize the wisdom in never short changing yourself. I figure in all of this new chaos around me, I at least can try to look good even if I don't "play" good, so to speak. A special thank you to all those earthly angels of mine who keep answering all of my questions on how to be my "best doctor".

I've always loved to read, but usually my book genre of choice is fiction. An occasional non-fiction slips in there if it's lucky, but not very often. Since Naki's died, I haven't been able to bear the thought of wasting my time with fiction. I'm sure it will find it's place in my life again at some point...it would break my reading-loving heart otherwise! But not for a while. I have so many books on my reading list right now about so many topics and just not very much time for reading. I try to sneak in a paragraph whenever I can. I've never been so interested in non-fiction in my life! Currently I'm trying to read a book that Naki's sister dropped by my house the night before Halloween. It's titled, When You Can't Do It Alone Take the Savior's Hand and it's written by Brent L. Top. The author is a former LDS Mission President who struggled with anxiety, depression, and a nervous breakdown while he was serving as such. There is a paragraph that I really love at the very end of the first chapter. It talks about his experiences bringing him closer to the Savior. It speaks to me because even though I hate that it took Naki dying to bring me closer to the Savior, it is the truth. It reads,

"In the months and years since that experience, I have learned many things about what it means to focus on Christ and to take hold of His outstretched hand. I probably would never have learned how to do that if I had not been forced to my knees. Just as Peter paid more attention to the words of the Master when he was floundering in the water than when he took his first steps out of the boat, so, too, did I listen and learn more in pain than I ever did in comfort and prosperity. I may never have learned how to focus on Christ if I hadn't been in a position where I absolutely had to do so. Taking hold of His hand and allowing Him to lift us doesn't happen automatically or quickly. It is a spirtual skill that has to be learned and relearned, and then that learning must be continually applied."

I still don't like my situation, and I still don't know how I'll survive without my Baby, but I do know what it's doing for my relationship with the Savior. I hope we all can get the most out of our difficulties, whatever they are, and realize that we can take hold of the Savior's hand and walk with Him.