Caroling

A little bit of Caroling love from our family to yours...

Bread and Turkey

A friend asked me last night if I experience guilt as part of this grieving experience. And my answer was a resounding "Yes!", for more things than you can even imagine.

One of the areas in which I experience guilt is in the way I was socially while Naki was alive. I know I've already written about it before in a separate entry, but being social is not my thing, and it IS Naki's thing. As a result there were many times when Naki would have preferred to be out, as a family, socializing and getting together with his friends and family, but knew how difficult it was for me to do, so didn't. Don't get me wrong...he wasn't some tortured individual that lived unfulfilled because I held him back. There were many many times when I knew something was important to him to be involved in and so I'd go along with it as a supportive friend and wife. But I do know that he would've done more of that sort of thing if I'd been game for it. Only now, as I've been forced to be the mouthpiece for our family and have been pushed and shoved to be social in a way that I've never been comfortable doing, do I see the benefits that he'd realized all along. No one knows better than God and I how I wish I could change that, and experience what I'm learning now with Naki by my side instead of... not.

The girlies' Uncle Isaac is one of those benefits. He and Naki played football together at BYU, and since Naki died he and his wife have been some of the friends to us that I didn't know we had all along. Isaac has made it a priority to stop in and stay for a while, allowing the kids to crawl all over him, balance on his outstretched legs as he lays on the floor on his back, lifting them upside down by their feet to help them "walk on the ceiling", being willing to break a sweat every time he's here. At first I was horrified by their behavior, asking them after he'd leave if they couldn't just sit and visit with him. But in therapy I learned that having a male figure to wrestle with and roughplay with was a vital and necessary part of their development that without Naki would be left undone. Daddy was forever wrestling with the girls, playing on the floor with them, giving horsie rides to them, etc etc, and they all miss that terribly. Isaac is more than willing to let them do it, the girls are extra willing to do it, but I had to relax and let both parties enjoy themselves. They just can't get enough of their Uncle Isaac. And to top it all off, he bakes the best homemade bread which he lovingly delivers when he comes. And it shouldn't be left unsaid that Erin, his sweet wife, gives us that opportunity of having him over here by shouldering all that a strong Mother does when their husband isn't home. Thanks to both of you for what you provide to the girls.


These other pics are from the girls' school activity, the Turkey Trot. Every Thanksgiving the school holds a race for each grade by gender. The winner of each race takes home a turkey, and the 2nd and 3rd place winners in the past received a candy bar and this year won a school water bottle. May I humbly say that we have four of those water bottles being used around our house! The girls all had a great time, well, maybe except Line who REALLY wants to win 1st some day. :) And I was lucky enough to get to hang around outside watching all of the races, since the teacher I work with at the school was willing to let me do so. Hopefully next year they won't decide to do the same kind of race for all the employees...yikes, that has potential embarassment written all over it. Great job, girls!

In this household we try to wear our Cougar Blue every game day that we can. It's pure luck on my part that when those days roll around everyone has something clean that qualifies. On this particular day Malia asked if they could please add some face paint to their weekly routine. Now, it is not my inclination to add things to my life that are mess potential, or chaos potential, etc. I barely handle the normal things let alone adding more into the equation. For some reason I said yes, and was so glad I did. They were so cute! They used the black and silver face paint left over from Halloween, and were really getting into it. Just listening to them alone without watching them was entertainment enough. Malia, the ring leader, was painting everyone elses' faces, and wanted to do hers as well. I told her to be careful, and to remember that since she was looking in the mirror while she was doing it that in order for it to end up readable she'd have to apply it backwards. Apparently she didn't get what I was telling her.

Here's what it looked like in the mirror...


And here's what it looked like to the rest of us...


Lose decided to apply a mole like her Daddy's, right by her nose. It was funny listening to them debate which side Dad's mole was actually on...






Go Cougs!

I've always been so unspeakably impressed and in awe whenever I'd hear of someone experiencing an unspeakable tragedy, and yet they still clung to their belief and faith in God. I am even now more impressed and in awe than I ever have been. After experiencing my own tragedy, the one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that God loves me, and that His Son, my Brother, knows my pain, knows my weaknesses, loves me immensely, has a bottomless amount of patience for me, and somehow manages to continue to carry me every day to a better place. This is no small miracle, I assure you. I have been to hell and back with a couple repeat visits lately, and sometimes I stay for a while. I have been confused as to why this is the path I have to walk, and as a parent myself I wonder how God can watch me, his child, endure so many daily difficulties and heartaches. My resentfullness, anger, bitterness, and offended spirit struggles on a daily basis to make it through this enormous somewhat seemingly insurmountable mountain of my life. I've yelled at God, talked to Him, pleaded with Him, ignored Him, begged Him, questioned Him, looked to Him, tried to understand Him, and mostly tried to make myself open to what He is trying to teach me. I do not say this lightly, when I say that I love Him. It is a loved hard earned, not easily understood on my part, and one that I have worked very very hard at developing. To me it is my own small miracle that throughout my immense sadness and hurt that I can say with peace and comfort that I know that I am loved and cared for by them. Do I agree with their methods? Maybe not, and maybe admitting that makes me a fool. Do I hope to someday understand their methods? Absolutely. Do I wish Naki was here to explain them to me like he always had? More than I can express. But perhaps that is a small portion of what this is all about...my own journey towards my Father and Brother. A journey that I continue to make one step at a time, with many tears and many friends helping me along the way.

I have struggled so much over the last three months. I wish it hadn't been so, but it has and I'm trying to make my way to the surface of it. I've truly been drowning for many many weeks, although I've desperately attempted to fake my way to the surface. Faking doesn't work. I just get sucked down deeper and deeper, hoping for a breath of air to sustain me. I've received some much needed gulps of air from some unexpected sources this week, and they were such a relief that I cried from knowing their ultimate source.

It seems so contradictory to feel so sad and distraught and yet be able to say that I know I am an incredibly blessed person in the same breath. But it is the truth.

Cutie

Line just said to me as I was cleaning up dinner, "Mom, Ane gave me the rest of her roll and Lose gave me the rest of her milk shake. How much better does it get?"

Charlie, The Beast

We love our pet, we really do. But it's time for a couple of surgeries that will hopefully tame the beast in her a bit. She goes in tomorrow for her lady surgery, and two weeks later she's scheduled for her own special mani-pedi. We tried to spare her those surgeries, but she is making us crazy, attacking our lower extremities nonstop, leaving streams of blood down our legs and traumatizing ALL of us, even Line, who is way more forgiving towards Charlie. No one is able to walk up the stairs without watching their backs the entire time, knowing that Charlie is about to eat your feet alive at any second. The second you think all is calm as you read on the couch, she attacks any dangling limbs she sees. As the mom, I'm tired of any tears that I can prevent...we have more than our fair share as it is. And if she's not careful, there's going to come a day when the girls aren't going to have any more patience with her stalking habits. Since I'm trying to avoid that, it's surgery time.

When I told the bigger girls what the first surgery was for, they were disappointed that she wouldn't have any babies. I told them that it was highly improbable that that would ever have happened anyway, since she's an inside cat and isn't ever in the right scene for a little hanky-panky. They all giggled at what they thought was a very risque joke for Mom to say outloud, and then Line replied, "Ohhh...but she's so attractive!" Poor Charlie...apparently all her good looks are for naught.

Now. Are there any surgeries out there for another lady who feels like she could use a couple of tweaks to her always-sad, always-tired, always missing her old life while trying to adjust to her new one personality, before those she loves decide they might just not have enough patience for her anymore? *sigh*