I despise that this, being a widow and having my children miss their father so desperately, is our new life. Despise it with all my being. However, it has made heavenly things very real in our life. What do I mean by that? I guess I mean that death, no longer having it's mythical type of nature for us, holds real power in our lives. It means that choices in life really DO matter. The paths we take DO have consequences, good and bad. We have a strong motivation for wanting to live the gospel in it's truest sense. That motivation is a big, strong, fun, loving, goofy, thoughtful, wise, cuddly, and spiritual Husband and Dad. But what I've discovered, and I hope the girls discover, is that even more motivation than that lies in the potential relationship we can have with the Savior. I long to make choices to not disappoint someone who has shown and continues to show me such unconditional love. Life is no joke. It is not a period of time to be trifled with. That much we Maile girls know for sure. The girls' Dad's death has sped up their maturity levels and they find themselves in different waters than many of their friends and even many of their family. They see things through different glasses because those are the glasses they've been given. And although I hate this trial, I am grateful for the experiences it gives us to make good choices.

Several weeks ago Lose was at recess with a couple of girls from her class. They were all swinging at the same time and as a result all of the swings were occupied. Malia finished her lunch and came on the playground. She spotted Lose swinging, and walked over to her. When she arrived at the swings, Lose's friends made unkind comments about Malia not being allowed to play with them. Good ol' Lose. Daddy's girl...she jumped off that swing and came out verbally swingin'. She let them know that Malia was her sister, and no one disrespects her sister like that. I love that even though their Daddy isn't here, they still remember all the things he teaches them...and in particular for this situation, that your sisters always come first, no matter what.

Sadly, the next day none of those girls would speak to her. And whenever she would try to walk with them during recess, they'd turn around and yell at her, "Stop following us!". It breaks my heart to imagine her turning away, sad to have been shouted at, and even sadder to have no one to play with. Kids can be so cruel. They then started to spread lies about Lose, and it really broke her heart. On the first day after the swing incident, Malia was unaware of any of the repercussions Lose was experiencing as a result of her actions the day before. As Malia sat in her class, her teacher told all of the students that they could choose to go outside for recess or stay in. The way Malia tells the story, "I had a thought Mom, that I should go outside and find Lose to play with her. I didn't know why, because I always want to stay inside. And all of my friends chose to stay inside for recess. But I decided to follow my thought and go outside and find Lose."

Now, you tell me...isn't that the whole point of absolutely everything that Naki and I are so desperately trying to teach our girlies? To help them be so spiritually sound that they can receive promptings from God and then act on them? As far as Naki and I are concerned that is the number one thing that we want our girls to learn in this life. I was brought to tears as I recognized that because of their Dad's death that had prompted the many many many discussions the girls and I have had about the purpose of our mortality, and the way to return to our earthly Daddy and our heavenly Daddy, that our main goals are being met. No one would have picked this way to have brought them to fruition, but I was so proud of Malia for being open enough in her heart that she #1 heard God, and #2, followed what she'd heard. I would be choosing to be stubbornly bitter if I didn't take the chance to recognize that Malia's spiritual growth was a direct result of her father's death, as is the rest of ours. It makes me proud, and I know it makes Naki proud, to see us figuring out the eternal potential his death has for our family and not wasting our lives with frivolity. Just look at your girls, Babe. Aren't they amazing?

Unexpected

This morning Ane asked me if she could do a particular thing, or have a particular thing. I don't remember exactly what it was since she asked me during my morning whirlwind routine, but I remember that my answer was no. In a voice that was a cross between a mumble and a whine, I thought I heard her say something back to me. But the shock of her statement caught me sooooo off guard that I knew, just knew, that I must have been wrong in my interpretation. So I said,

Mom: What did you say, Ane?

Boo: I said, But Daddy says I can!

Oh. My. Word. Most people may be irritated at being manipulated, but I was just ecstatic that she remembered "Daddy" enough to use him against me. I'm not super specific at this point in how he's involved with Ane's life. The fact that she was acting just as "normal" in her use of Mommy vs. Daddy just like all the other girls have made me feel soooo giddy.

It's official. I've discovered the best form of discipline EVER. It's called CLEANING. I'm not sure when the moment of insipiration struck, but I am so so so glad that it did. Most likely many of you already know what I've only just learned. But for the past two weeks I've enjoyed a clean living room, an extraordinarily clean toy room, a precisely organized library, wonderfully clean floors and bathrooms, and even a clean car and empty trunk. The girls still receive fair warning when they are getting out of line, but when they can't quite pull themselves out of whatever funk they're in, the new punishment around here is an extra chore. And oh do they hate it. At first the threat to them didn't seem all that big of a deal, but after seeing everyone else in the family do something enjoyable while they were busy cleaning, they are starting to see the error of their thinking. Although I am always hoping for respectful children and a peaceful home, it sure is nice to have such a clean one in the meantime.

Eva constantly asks me, "When is Dad coming back alive?". We believe in a resurrection for all mankind, and know that resurrection to be a part of the Savior's return to this earth. Naki and I have taught and continue to teach that to the girlies. Previous to his death the concept of that beautiful return of the Savior's was vague and somewhat mythical. But now we hope for, prepare for, and anticipate that triumphant return for more than one reason. After asking me this question she'll usually say "I miss Daddy" and then move on, and both of these questions are typically a part of her nightly bedtime routine, a time when his absence is especially noticable. But the other night she altered from her normal questions. After she said I miss Daddy, I asked her specifically what she missed about him. I often ask her this question, and her typical answer is that she misses him tickling her. Her response this time was that she misses Dad bathing her, dressing her, doing her hair, playing with her, reading to her, tickling her, making her bed with her, and putting her seatbelt on in the car. I couldn't believe it! She'd never before been able to verbalize the things that she missed them doing together. I thought that by now because of her young age she for sure didn't remember any details. Instead I thought she remembered the overall feelings that he brought into her mind and heart. Immediately I knew that I needed to write down the things she remembered because of the inevitability of her forgetting them. I can coach her on them, and she'll "remember" those things just because I will have talked to her about them forever, but I thought that it was important for me to make a record of her actually thinking of and remembering them all on her own, especially because she did remember them a good 15 months after they'd not been happening.

I was overwhelmed today. So overwhelmed that I couldn't even talk. The moment came during church as I was listening to a discussion about gratitude and the things that we wanted to express gratitude for. Anyone could talk and say anything they wanted, and I was so overcome with my emotions, truly overcome, I couldn't even raise my hand. If I had, all anyone would have heard was a series of squeaks, sniffs, hand gestures, and more squeaks. I'm convinced the lady who sits behind me has started to bring tissues just for me, since she always pulls one out for me and I have yet to see her use one herself.

So I said nothing...outloud. But inside I was talking nonstop, trying to express to my Heavenly Father how much I recognize those things that I am forever grateful to Him for. My ability to finally clearly see those monumental things I call blessings astounded me, since previously even though I knew I was blessed I was still so bitter and had allowed that bitterness to taint my acknowledgement of those blessings. I am so grateful to find myself starting to come around the bend a bit from the hate and anger that have consumed my spirit for far too long, and the recognition of that was part of the reason I was speechless. I still have a bit in there, and suspect that I always will. Throughout the last 15 months I have experienced more emotions than I ever care to experience again, and more intensely than I care to experience again. But throughout all of it, I tried to do as my sister wisely counseled me to do. She told me to go ahead and let myself have that awful thought, go ahead and express that anger, go on and feel that irrational and illogical feeling, let myself be what I was in the moment. But after I had done that it was absolutely necessary to balance it with something positive, even if I had to think and think and think, and then just be able to say one thing that seemed inconsequential and didn't compare in positive value to the amount of negative value my other things held. I did it, and most days I did it grudgingly, ticked that I had to ruin my dreary and preferrably dark vision and outlook with something so nice and honest, even if it was just saying I was glad to have a washing machine, grateful that the sun was out, glad that my kids were okay with eating cereal for dinner, etc. Small things that I REALLY had to pull out of myself when I did NOT want to see the good in anything.

So imagine my shock today as I sat in church and found myself overwhelmed, just overwhelmed, as the flood of countless item after countless item, neverending acts of service given to my family, numberless blessings I've received and continue to receive, came pouring into my mind. It was so clear to me that all of those things are God's work and efforts to assure me of His love and concern for me, Naki and the girls. I was able to recognize how far I've come from those first awful awful months of despair and grief in it's truest sense. I know that over the last few months it's become easier and easier to find those positive thoughts to place as a balance to my negative ones. But today was as if a sun was bursting out right above my head and it's rays were covering me with their brightness, not to be denied or covered by any darkness I may have been feeling. It was an astounding experience.

It was the culmination of a process of emotions I've been sorting through for some time...the process of holding two opposite feelings in balance with one another. I've been struggling with it for so long. I'd been feeling like I was a walking disclaimer...no matter what smile I smiled, what laugh I laughed, what joke I told, what great book I read, what work I'd accomplished, what child I made happy, what blessing I acknowledged, I needed to give it my readily available disclaimer of "But I'm still very very very sad...you just don't see it on the outside." I'm working on developing an emotional maturity that's difficult to explain, but it requires an extreme amount of self honesty that is, quite "honestly", annoying. I actually want to be sad a lot of the time. I prefer it. It feels so comfortable, and sadness is my friend. We get each other. But if I am being honest I would be forced to admit to myself that being sad doesn't do honor to Naki. It isn't some badge of honor to walk around sad. It IS a badge of honor to take his children someplace fun and to laugh together, acknowleding in my heart that I am indeed having fun AND am extremely lonely, missing him and imagining what it would be like if he were there laughing and playing with us. It's okay to enjoy the activity with the girlies, and then to cry about it later. I can experience both emotions, and still be grateful for the many many things that God continues to give us.

This video says what my words cannot. My friend showed it to me, and I am addicted to it in every way. It is not computer aminated, but is actually done in the old fashioned way...with drawings. It is beautiful and makes me cry every time, because to me it embodies my struggles of opposing emotions and all that I feel for Naki. Enjoy. And have your tissues handy.

reaching

Last night I fell asleep laying in bed with the T.V. on. I never do that. But Naki always did. So it was the strangest experience last night when I awoke, heard the T.V. lightly in the background and saw the room lit up from it, and did what I always did. I rolled over and reached for him. I haven't done that ever. I've always known he was gone and somehow just knew even in my sleep that he wasn't beside me. I can't seem to find the words to explain how that felt last night, but it was a quick awakening when my hand rested on empty and cold sheets instead of his always warm and massive arm, leg, or chest. It didn't exactly make me sad so to speak, but just surprised me that I had the ability to still do what I'd always done after not doing it for over a year. I guess some habits are hard to break.

Yearning..

I want to hug, snuggle, punch, kiss, confide in, eat with, laugh at, dance with, pray with, rest with, play with, work with, giggle with, and much much more with this man. Oh, time can't go fast enough till I can do all of those things.

I. Miss. Him.

Cold Snow and Hot Chocolate

Okay. So in reality it was actually slushy snow and lukewarm chocolate...the snow because that's what we had to play in the day it worked into the schedule and the drink because none of them can stand actual "hot" chocolate. They were so stinkin' adorable, and I'm glad I remembered to take pics, now that my photographer moved out. (We miss you!)



Look carefully at this next picture. At first glance it seems to be a snapshot of someone making a snow angel. But it's actually a moment captured in time of Malia throwing a snowball right on Line's face as she made the snow angel.


Eli made this one...

See the snowball coming my way? I must say I was such a great sport. Playing in the snow is NOT my thing, and I know I've mentioned before that I was always the one inside making the hot chocolate while Daddy was the one playing and yucking it up out in the snow. So you should all know that double duty looks pretty interesting, at least from my point of view. One second outside, the next running inside. I wish I'd thought to count exactly how many times I ran up and down the stairs, grabbing various items they requested and making various drinks and such. It was worth it though, seeing their cute selves frolicking and squealing, with the occasional shouting at each other when they didn't like the snowballs being thrown at them, even though they all did their own fair share of the throwing.

Malia was determined to get me good...let's just say I'm glad her aim was off that day.


She fell to the ground in anguish at her inability to hit me in the face.

Reloading...



Eli thought she'd get a better angle on her snowball attacks.

Charlie sat at the screen the entire time, wishing she was right in the middle of things.

Because I kept going in and out, Boo was confused as to why I wouldn't allow her to come in and out as well. This was her way of letting me know she wanted to be done.

That is, until I gave her a sippy cup filled with her apple juice, which I swear runs through her veins. Who plays in the snow with a sippy cup? She was thrilled to have it though, and it made my life easier for a moment.

Malia orchestrated the snowman building, of course. And it's no surprise who she made the snowman into. I loved it, and the other girls got right on in with the action. Lose DOES have gloves, if you see her little red hands, it's that she just keeps not putting them away when she's asked to, and so couldn't find them at this exact moment. If you look closely you can see the snowball that Malia put in Naki the snowman's hand...






This next series of pics I know look all alike, but I put them all in this post because if you look closely, Eva and Eli's facial expressions change from one to the next, and it made me laugh looking at it. When I asked Malia to lay down in the front, Ane collapsed over like she'd been shot or something and we couldn't convince her whatsoever that only Malia needed to lay down for the picture since she was in the front. Thus, the reason she's laying flat on her back in all of these pictures.







Hope you all get to play in the snow and have some lukewarm chocolate and create fun memories too.