The Mourners Bill of Rights

It's interesting that writing in here is much like the rest of my life. I usually put it off but always feel better after having done it. That's very typical of me. I don't want to do most things, but always feel all the better for just doing it anyway. Writing has been a surprise for me. It provides me an outlet that in a sense replaces, just a tiny bit, the sound board that Naki is for me. He is perfect for bouncing ideas off of. I had a friend tell me recently that she loves bouncing ideas off of me. I told her to keep the ideas coming...I'm very bouncy that way. And so is Naki. You may feel quite sympathetic towards him and see him as even more amazing than you previously thought as you continue to hear all that I have to say over the next whoever-knows-how-long. Poor man...he endured so much from me.

There are a couple of light hearted and not heart wrenching things I wanted to share before I moved on to more difficult things. I just want to put it out there that I never before realized how much Naki would slap my bum as he would walk by me. I remember every time he would walk behind me I would sort of tense in anticipation because I knew it was coming. Sometimes they would sting! It wasn't until after I've caught myself unconsciously tensing up several times in a row when someone walked behind me that I realized I was missing even that about my baby, even after all the times I'd complain about it to him that he slapped too hard. *sigh* Now don't any of you out there go and get any funny ideas...you've all done so very much to try and help fill in where Naki would normally have been, but I think I'll be just fine without any substitutes in this department.

I've added a smaller belt for myself to my most recent shopping list. Who knew that losing some weight would be a side benefit of losing my husband and best friend? I guess I should count myself lucky because really, it totally could have gone either way. I can't tell you how much time I wasted with my sweetheart trying to strategize about the new best way to get myself back to the gym so that I could get myself in a good place mentally and physically. I know he doesn't feel that it was time wasted. To him it is one of the ways that he knows makes me feel loved...to pay attention to the things that matter to me, even if it isn't as high of a priority to him as it is to me. Because it's important to me, it's important to him. The last couple of months before he died I finally got back on a consistent work out schedule and also refocused on what I was eating...and nothing. No results. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I can't tell you how frustrating that is. He told me then and I still hear his voice now, telling me that the more I obsessed about the lack of results the longer I'd have no results. But if I stopped focusing on it and worked out to make myself feel better instead of for the results, then the results would come. Wouldn't you know it, the stinker was right. As usual. For the first time in my ENTIRE life, I'm going to work out, not because of the weight loss results I've sought after before, but because it's my new sanctuary. I go into my own happy place and it is quite cathartic. Exercise for me has always paralleled the gospel. I know it might sound somewhat hokey to some of you. But for me it is all about doing something hard that most of the time I definitely don't want to do because ultimately I know that the results are astonishing, rewarding, fulfilling, peace giving, and makes me feel whole. Actually, I keep comparing this whole my-husband-died-and-I-really-hate-it thing to exercise. When I'm sprinting on the treadmill and I just want to quit early, I push myself all the way to the end because there is no quitting early. In this grieving process there is no escaping it unless I never want to get past the horror of it all and eventually get to a better and healthier place. So, a smaller belt. Who woulda' thunk it.

I was driving in the car the other afternoon with Line, Malia, and Lose. Lose told me that she's pretty sure that Santa Clause isn't real and that it's actually me and Dad. After navigating those already charted waters (I had this talk with Line and Malia last year, to which Naki is appalled. He never wants the girls to grow up, I think.) all three girls started talking about Christmas this year. They started to get worried because it dawned on them that if we followed traditional roles, then Dad was Santa Clause and I was Mrs. Clause. And if that is the case, and Santa is gone, who would give them presents this year? Their logic was so cute. I assured them that as usual Mom and Dad don't do anything normal. In our family I'm actually Santa Clause and Dad is Mrs. Clause. They had these puzzled looks on their faces, so I explained to them that it's always been me who thinks of what to get them for Christmas, me who shops for it, and me who wraps it, although I always ran my ideas by him first, of course. I then asked them to think of who always took care of the other parts of Christmas? Like making hot chocolate, snuggling up to watch fun Christmas movies, making sure that we Christmas caroled every Monday night for the month of December, etc etc...and sure enough, they came to realize that their Dad is Mrs. Clause. Between all of us we figured that we could pick up the slack on that, and I assured them that they had no need to worry about Christmas. I also told them that something unusual had happened this year. Now that they knew it was me who always picked out their gifts, they needed to know that Dad approached me a couple of months ago and told me what he wanted them to have...something he'd never done before. So I immediately budgeted for it and started to shop for it. For the first time ever not only had we already had Christmas shopping done before Halloween, but the girls will get to actually open a present from their Dad that he picked out for them. How special is that! Not a coincidence, I'm sure.

I had another Surprise of the Day the other night. After getting all the kids to bed I ran out to pick up a couple of things to help finish organizing my closet. I've discovered that it's not so great to go shopping late at night because that's when all the young couples are out shopping together. Yeah...not so great. But that's not the Surprise. The Surprise came as I was driving home. I took my usual route home via the freeway. Took my usual exit, and followed the usual roads to my house. Didn't think too clearly on that, as I turned and drove right past the emergency room. All the horror and images replayed in my head and I almost had to pull over because I was that close to being unfit for driving. Is there going to be a future point when that doesn't hurt so bad? Please say yes. Is there going to be a time when those horrible images of watching my baby leave so unexpectedly and the memory of being in such a state of shock will not take my breath away and make me feel so fragile? Please say yes.

Those who've been forced to grieve like I have learn that some of the difficult things are the "firsts"... the first time I have to do something that I normally would have done with Naki or the first time that I have to do something in a different way because he's not here. Tonight marks one of those firsts. I had to plan Malia's baptismal program with her without her Dad's name on the program. That is so hard. I don't know how each girl will deal with that, but I know it's bound to be a difficult time each 8th birthday. It's embarrassing to admit, but I completely lost track of time. I hadn't realized that Malia's baptism was so quickly approaching. She will be getting baptized on December 5th, one day after her birthday. I feel for her because she has to be the first girl to not have her Dad baptize her and also the first to have a birthday without him alive. I've tried my best to explain to her that it's not about who is baptizing you so much as it is about the fact that you are worthy to be baptized and that you are making the choice to get baptized that matters the most. But I can only put so much gumption into that when I'm just as bummed about it as she is.

Several several days ago...I can't remember when. I really have lost the ability to truly keep track of time. But some time ago since Naki died a dear friend brought some papers over to me. One is titled "Appropriate Grief Expectations", one is titled "Six Helps for Coping With Grief", and the other is titled "The Mourner's Bill of Rights". They share such helpful information for me and for those around me about grieving. Some of it I'd already either experienced or inately knew, and others listed surprised me and I have since discovered their truth. There is so much to share about grieving, most of which I had no idea about. I have had friends lose babies, husbands, grandparents, cousins, uncles, children, and I truly didn't know what they were experiencing. Being on the other end offers a totally different perspective, and totally stinks, by the way. I'd say 'sucks', but before Naki's death we didn't say that word in our house. I've apparently started saying it because I heard Malia say it to me loudly today when I asked her to do something she didn't want to do. Afterwards she was being reprimanded for using that word and imagine my shock when she told me that she hears me say it all the time since Dad died. So, I'm saying 'stinks' instead of 'sucks'. But I've decided that throughout my posts I'm going to try and include some of the things from those papers that I have found informative and I think those on the other side of things like I once was would, too. Having watched others go through mourning, I would have loved to know some of these things. I'm going to refer to all of them as my Mourners Bill of Rights, even though they might be from the other papers.

The first one that I hadn't put into words but was completely feeling was,

"Your grief will take more energy than you would have ever imagined. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits. Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don't allow others to push you into things you don't feel ready to do."

I know it may seem like a no-brainer to many, but I am repeatedly shocked to find myself exhausted after doing nothing. My dad says it's because grief is mentally and emotionally draining. When I think of exhaustion I first think of physical exhaustion and not really mental or emotional exhaustion. But really I have been shocked at the lack of energy I have. It reminds me of when I was pregnant, sort of. On some days it would just take everything that I had to lift my arm above my waist. That kind of tired...heavy limbed tired. There are so many things I want to get accomplished, but just get to a point and feel tired. So many have been so patient with me as there are things that need to get done that only I can do and it just seems beyond me at times. Energy draining, this grieving thing.

In reference to my inability to keep track of things the way I normally would,

"You will have trouble thinking (memory, organization, and intellectual processing) and making decisions."

I thought I had problems BEFORE with my memory and making decisions. I'm at a whole new level with those kinds of things.

"You have the right to move toward your grief and heal. Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember grief is a process and not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever."

This one really holds significance with me. An event implies that there is a beginning, a middle and an end. A process implies that they're is no definite end and quite a bit of change and evolving. I've already sensed in some people that I talk to that every time we're together they don't necessarily want to hear me talk about the current emotions that I'm feeling, or what sent me over the edge the other day, or just maybe a funny memory that I have of Naki. They have moved on, as they should because it isn't their life, but I never will. I'm learning who those people are so I can be sensitive to those situations, and I'm also learning who will let me talk. I also recognize that eventually I would like to get to a point where I won't need to talk about all of this all the time. Someday...

There is another right that says,

"You have the right to talk about your grief. Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. Acknowledge your feelings. Find a friend or family member who can help you release your emotions without judging you. Often this will help the healing begin."

I know which people in my life are those that I will seek out because I know they will be tolerant and nonjudgmental of my feelings and thoughts. Another thing I'd like to add to that last Right is that in addition to having someone you can talk to that won't judge you, it also helps to not always have someone trying to find a solution to what you're thinking or feeling. Sometimes you just feel like getting it out without necessarily trying to fix it immediately. Since I'm not the only one in this house mourning, knowing these rights has been especially helpful for me when working with all the girlies. I get to feel the grief as well as watch others feeling it...sometimes that is twice, or six times, as painful. I'm watching my babies feel such pain that I cannot relieve. It's torture. Tonight especially.

Since we had some extra time to kill this evening I decided to watch our wedding video...nothing professional, mind you. Just a collection of clips from a video camera that my parents brought with them the weekend of our wedding that various people recorded. I wasn't sure how it would be received, being the first time the girls will have seen him and heard his voice since the day he died. Although they all had different reactions, I'm writing about Line's tonight. She had expressed the most excitement at the idea and got the most annoyed when anyone talked or made any sound during the viewing of the tape. We had to stop several times for various reasons, and it really bugged her each time. I could tell that she was getting irritated so we put the babies to bed, had some dessert/snack, and came back up to finish watching. I kept glancing her way and saw tears escaping the corners of her eyes. These kinds of reactions are so painful to watch. At least, that's what I thought was hard to watch until later tonight when I was tucking them into bed. After finishing the video, I put the other babies to bed and worked with Malia on her baptismal program. I then went downstairs with the two oldest and helped them get tucked in to bed. Line had been melancholy ever since we watched the video and after I'd turned out their light she started to tell me that she didn't want to go to school tomorrow, or ever again. Any one who knows her knows that this is a huge variation from her normal. She said that all she wants to do is stay around her family and not have to do anything or go anywhere again. She just wants to get together with her family and just be with them no matter what they're doing. After talking with her for some time she eventually told me that she just doesn't want her teachers, the principal, other students, and pretty much anyone you can think of, asking her how she is feeling that day, or talking to her about it all. I get that Line, I really do. Those feelings are so conflicting though, because in one minute I'll wish that people would quit asking me how I'm doing. And then when the next person I see doesn't ask me how I'm doing, I feel bugged that they didn't ask! There just isn't a way to win in this situation, I'm afraid. She really started to let out all the emotions that I know she's been keeping in. I've asked her permission to include these personal feelings she's expressed to me in a post, to which she responded 'absolutely'. But she just can't get past her anger. The anger that I feel surprises me, and just when I think I'm past it, it creeps up on me. One of the Rights says,

"You may find yourself asking, 'Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?' Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. Watch out for the cliched responses some people may give you. Comments like, "It was God's will" or "Think what you have to be thankful for" are not helpful and you do not have to accept them."

The comment Line hates is that God must have needed her Dad up there more than we need him here. I hate that one, too, Line. It's quite maddening, actually. I'm not so sure that the comment brought on the anger, but overall she is quite frankly enraged and infuriated at God right now. It was so beyond troublesome to see her letting out all these emotions that have obviously been pent up inside her. She told me that she had thought that by watching the video she would feel a bit of relief at seeing him again and that she would feel closer to him when in fact it was the exact opposite on both fronts. It sent her into a tailspin. After all the pillow punching and tear dripping slowed down a bit, she then started to express her desire to never grow up. She said that she just feels so alone that the thought of doing all those things without Dad makes her feel that she'd just rather not do them at all. I find it so strange myself Line, that with all these people surrounding you and doing everything they can to buoy you up it's still so possible to feel so alone. I couldn't control myself any longer. I just started sobbing right along side her. To her the future is completely bleak and without any hope. I broke completely apart and felt an emotional gash in my soul when at the summit of her emotional retching she finally admitted her deepest feelings to me that to her, Earth is her own personal Hell and she feels that there is no way for her to escape this Prison called her life. I didn't and still don't have any words to relieve her of her pain. We held each other for quite some time and just cried together. That is a moment that I will never ever forget. After she was done and had calmed down significantly, I tried to practice what I'd learned. I did not wish her to feel judged or that I had all the answers. Instead I commended her for sharing with me something that she knew would be hard for me to hear. I told her how proud of her I am and how proud I know her Dad is of her. I talked with her about how much courage it had taken for her to be honest and also how much strength it takes to tackle head-on your deepest darkest secrets. I spoke with her about how I was sorry for not holding her more often, something she's always craved since she was born. I asked her if she felt any better since she was able to get all these feelings out in the open, to which she replied, 'yes'. I also told her that these were all great things to share with the therapist on Thursday when we go for the first time. We discussed how I also feel a sense of bleakness when I think of my future forever altered in a way I hate. We just talked. This has to be the most emotionally painful thing I've ever ever experienced and I just want it to be over, NOW. Afterwards she said a prayer with me, and it was the sweetest thing ever. She prayed that tomorrow everyone would be healthy and that no one she loved would be dead. Why do all these kids, so young, have to be thinking about something so unbelievably adult? I don't want them to have to go through any more of this. Couldn't we go back to the time before we were death-aware? It has it's good points, being death-aware, but right now I can't think of any.

The Choice Is Mine

You should just SEE my bedroom right now. I've discovered that there is something extremely cleansing and refreshing to getting as organized as possible, and starting anew. At least that's what my closets are telling me now that they can actually breathe! When my family arrived before the funeral they started tearing into my closets, in a good way. I would have called myself a pretty organized person before this whole process began. But they take being organized to a whole new level. Since then my Dad has continued the process, and it is fabulous. I do, however, need to have an orientation tour as to the location of any and all items in my house, because I have no idea where they currently are! I have to defer all the girlies' questions as to something's whereabouts to Grandfather, because I have no clue. Actually, there's a funny story about this organizing process I'm undergoing.

When Naki died I was serving as a counselor in our ward's Primary Presidency, and I loved it. I had a thick 3 ring binder that I stored all of my papers and such in and didn't really have a particular place I stored it, but seemed to have it near me whenever I needed it...doesn't sound all that organized, I know, but it worked for me. (Maybe I wasn't as organized as I thought....hmm..)Anyway, as I watched everything unfolding around me for those first couple of days, I kept watching my folder move to a certain location, would make a mental note about it's new wherabouts, then would see it reappear in a new location, and make a mental note about it's new new wherabouts, and so on and so on. The last location I remembered was on one of the shelves in the garage. When the decision became clear to me that I needed to be released from serving in that calling, I knew I would need that folder to pass on to whomever would be replacing me.

I. Could. Not. Find. It.

I mean, absoLUTElycould not find it. My Dad and I searched the entire garage, all the containers on the new beautiful shelves in the garage, searched all the bedrooms, all the bookshelves, cars, filing cabinets, and even under all the beds, couches and in the closets. I mean, we searched everywhere! No luck. Several days came and went and I found myself still looking for it in vain on Saturday. If you remember, Saturday was Halloween, the day all the BYU students came over to stain the fence and help touch up the paint on the house. As I saw all those adorable faces serving my sweet little family, I knew just what Naki would do if he was here. There is no way he would have all those people at his house, serving and helping him, without feeding them. Even if all we had was water and I would make some cookies, or we would make some sandwiches, something. He would feed them something. I of course cheated a bit, and decided to call and order some pizza. C'mon. I may have some good moments, but there is no way I'm up to baking any cookies these days. I remembered where the phone books were being kept, in a little cupboard under the counter where the stools sit in the kitchen. As I opened up the cupboard, I heard the "Ahhhhh" angelic sounds and I swear there were heavenly beams of light surrounding my Primary folder, which was sitting exactly on top of the phone book. In no way did I find it coincidental that in order to find something that was important to me, I first needed to serve others in a way that was true to what Naki has taught me.

So right now I'm sitting on my bed, looking around my room and shaking my head. This was one of the places that was originally off limits when they started organizing. It's the room Naki died in...it's my personal space, and I wasn't ready to have people trooping in and out of there. It's where the girlies and I came up to have some peace and quiet and watch College Roadtrip together...the movie that Naki watched with the girls during their slumber party that we as a family had made plans to watch together the day he died. It wasn't until I'd seen how wonderful it feels to have all the other spaces in the house cleaned and reorganized that I realized I was ready to tackle my closet. Not his closet; I'm not ready for that, yet. Just my closet. Oh, my poor closet. It holds clothes from high school years, clothes from maternity years, clothes in a wide range of sizes, clothes that I hoped to someday wear, etc. etc. I started to clean it out today and got interrupted so many times, whether for the girls dance classes, baths, lovely visitors, or whatever, it just didn't get done. It literally looks like a bomb went off in here and my closet exploded. But I knew that I had to get some of my thoughts written in here before my poorly functioning mind was filled with the next days thoughts.

As I wrote earlier, last night was a doozy. I seriously thought to myself, "Pull it together, Abby...your strange crying sounds slash can't breathing sounds slash hiccuping sounds are going to wake everyone up, for heaven's sake". I barely got myself together and laid my head on my pillow when Ane woke up and needed a bottle. Shortly after I got her into bed Eva came up to sleep with me, as she had been doing when Naki died and has been doing since then, too. I can't recall if I've written about her behavior in here or not, but seeing her act the way she has makes me so frustrated, because it is so not her little self. She has been beligerant, mean spirited, defiant, yet cuddly, clingy, silly, and giggly, too. Such a contradiction. It's clear the poor baby is terribly confused. But the one thing she's never really done is admit that she's sad. It finally came out last night. She would wrap her little chubby arms around my neck as we were laying side by side and as tears were streaming down her cheeks she just kept saying in my ear between sobs, "I miss Dad, Mom. I miss Dad." This went on for quite some time. There is just nothing I can say to that except that I miss him too, Eva. And go ahead and cry about it. In those moments I try to reassure her that I love her, her Dad loves her, and Heavenly Father loves her, too. On one of the days within the first week that he died, I remember tucking her in for her nap. I was cuddling with her and just kept telling her how much I loved her. She was being silly and kept repeating me but with a question. "Mommy loves Me?" and I'd say yes baby, Mommy loves you. She mimicked me in a silly way and I responded the same way. This happened several times, until all of a sudden she got still, and in a quiet and an unsure voice asked me, "Does Daddy love me?" It just broke my heart, because it had never occurred to me that perhaps she had thought that because he was gone, it somehow reflected on how he felt about her, at least in her little thought process. I tried my best to reassure her that her Daddy loved her So very much. She thought for a minute, and as if to make sure we were talking about the same person, she asked me, "Naki love me?". Now, I do not believe that God leaves his little babies comfortless, but it is so hard to see them in the middle of this process. These girls are and will continue to be fiercely strong faithful women, I have no doubt. It just breaks my heart to see them experiencing something so difficult that I believe will contribute to their future strength.

After such a rough rough night, I didn't think I had the strength for the gym. But it's a committment to myself to go if I can, that I'm not willing to break, no matter how tired. I know my mental cycle very well, and if I could have gone but didn't and wimped out somehow, I find myself dissatisfied with my choice and not as mentally and emotionally strong for the remainder of my day. But I went...this was the first day that I walked into the gym already crying. I had to get my act together, and quick. Those moments are hard. Many people, including myself, believe that in order to heal you need to own your feelings and your emotions. But sometimes your location is not conducive to that process. I walked into the Cardio Cinema room, my workout room of choice. I can run forever if I'm watching a good movie! Wouldn't you know, I walked into the room right at the end of Marley and Me, when they're burying their beloved pet, Marley. Now, I know, the dog is just an actor and so is everyone else, but it really didn't help my situation. The last thing I need is to fall off the treadmill while crying...now THAT's a pretty picture...and I know because I once fell off the treadmill that I used to have upstairs in my bedroom. Different situation that I won't go into because it's so humiliating, but really...no one needs a repeat experience of that. I can't remember how many times my body and my head bounced on the speeding treadmill, but it was awkward looking, I'm sure, and really quite painful. So I decided in order to avoid a repeat performance I'd emotionally distance myself for a bit and get through the workout. I'm proud of myself to be able to say that I did something hard that I didn't want to do...

Some time ago I remember sitting in church during Sacrament Meeting and clearly remember our Bishop standing up and commenting to the congregation about being careful and selective about what content you chose to post on your blog. I'll always remember that...for that particular reason I never blogged about my crazy bra shopping experience. I'm saying this because I'm not sure, but I think there are a lot more people reading this than I think, and not only women but men are reading, too. (Which I secretly love...I always wished that more people read our family blog...just 'cuz I was such a proud mama and, well, just 'cuz.) Anyway, I've been trying to follow that council the best I could through out this entire process thus far. But I've realized that ultimately I am writing my thoughts as a form of therapy for myself, and maybe, just a little bit for others as well. It would be incomplete without some of my experiences and thoughts, and so am taking this opportunity to notify any readers that you have my sincerest apologies if any of the content may offend. It is not my intent, at all, but is to aide in my healing process. I'd like to get said process on the track to completion as soon as possible!

All married couples know that using birth control is a personal choice. Naki and I have made several different choices over the years. I know this may come as a shock considering we had 6 kids in 9 years! But it became ultra clear to us after this last baby that we were not to have any more children. I can't tell you what kind of peace that brings me at such an awful time...a feeling of calm comes over me every time I think about that personal bit of revelation that came to both of us at seperate times. I would feel so robbed, even more than I already do, if I thought for a minute that he was taken from me before we were able to have all of our babies here with us. Because of those strong feelings that we both had we decided after delivering Ane that we would try a form of birth control called an IUD, an Intrauterine Device. This is another topic for another day on a more personal level for anyone who feels comfortable enough talking to me about it, but I have learned much from that choice, good and bad. About 3 months ago I decided to have it removed due to complications. The earliest appointment they had available for that kind of procedure was today, November 5th. It seemed so far away at the time but these kind of struggles put time in a whole new perspective. I remembered my appointment last week and realized that I would have had to schedule the procedure anyway, and felt so mad and angry about that. I can't explain it, and it doesn't even make sense to me and I'm the one experiencing the emotions! But as I went in for the procedure today it was heartbreaking to me to realize that I won't be having any more of his babies. That just tore my heart right out of me. I was a bit snappy at some of the nurses who didn't know me, I think. Poor things. But really, when they asked me if there was any family history of heart disease, I was finished. Any time I hear anyone talking about hearts I have a hard time with my emotions. I had to turn some of those emotions off just to get through it. It felt different making the decision on my own that I wasn't going to have any more babies rather than having the decision somewhat made for me. It makes me feel powerless and small. How dare the choice to be involved in something so immortal and monumental as creating and bearing a child be taken away from me? And why do I feel this way when I had already made that decision for myself? That appointment was draining...

I returned home in time to get the girlies out the door to take Lose to dance class. While I was there a beautiful woman I've always thought adorable stopped me and introduced herself. She mentioned to me that our girls' dance instructor had thought that we should meet each other and visit about our circumstances. Her husband died in a tragic car accident about 8 months ago. What a refreshing opportunity to talk to someone who already knows the emotions I'm feeling and can't always put words to. I've been blessed with some very very dear friends in my ward who have had the difficult opportunity to be faced with grief in their own lives, and they have been irreplaceable in my own grieving process. But it was interesting to visit with someone else who'd also lost a husband. If there is anything I've learned it's that everyone's grief experience is their own experience...no two are alike. Your emotions are yours and you don't have to grieve like anyone else does. While I was talking to her I told her that I'd decided that there is no way I am going to lay down and give in to the darkness that grief can strangle you with. I refuse. It reminded me of a poem that a friend had brought by earlier today. It is called "The Choice is Mine" by Iris Bolton.

I don't know why.
I'll never know why.
I don't have to know why.
I don't like it.
I don't have to like it.
What I do have to do is make a choice about my living.
What I do want to do is accept it and go on living.
I can go on living.
Valuing every moment in a way I never did before.
Or, I can be destroyed by it and, in turn, destroy others.
I thought I was immortal,
That my family and my children were also,
That tragedy happened only to others.
But, I know now that life is tenuous and valuable.
So I am choosing to go on living;
Making the most of the time I have;
Valuing my family and friends in a way never before possible;
The choice is mine.

Missing him

I miss my baby, so very very much. It just hit me like a ton of bricks, and I can't seem to stop crying.

Water works and Water proofed

Usually words just seem to flow from the tips of my fingers when I sit and write in here. But I have so many different and not neccesarily linked thoughts that I'm having difficulty thinking of how to start. So, I'll start with something completely unrelated to the traumatic events of the last couple of weeks. My dad cleaned out Naki's car for me and put all of the things that weren't garbage or dirty tupperware containers (so THAT'S where they disappeared too! Thanks a lot, Babe.) into a box for me to sort through when I was ready. I found in there all of the CDs he'd burned, including one I remember him burning the week he died. It has been such a treat to listen to those songs. They're not his typical compilation of songs. He tended to burn CD's by the style of the music. One for Reggae, one Country, one Hip Hop, one Sunday, etc etc. This one is a little bit of all of them, his very own "mix tape" for me to enjoy. It has shocked me as I've noticed some of the messages that I've gleaned from each song, and can't figure out why he picked some of the ones that he did. One of the girls' favorites on there is a Michael Jackson song. Our girls can not get enough of his music. After the song finished, I overheard Eli ask Malia if that song was sung by the white Michael Jackson or the black Michael Jackson...so confusing! It made me giggle.

Later today while Line was at dance class I drove the rest of the girlies over to Costco to fill up on gas. Some country song started playing from the CD called, I think, "I loved her first". The song is written from a Dad's point of view as his daughter is getting married, and let's just say I didn't stay composed for long. There was so much chaos going on behind me as I drove that I was surprised to hear Eli say as I pulled to a stop at the pump, "It's okay to miss Dad, Mom." I quickly turned to her, told her that I knew that was true, and then asked her why she told me that. She responded that she'd seen me crying. I asked her how did she see me since I was driving, and she told me that she'd seen me in the mirror, the rear view mirror. Lose chimed in and said she'd also seen me crying in the mirror, and then explained to Eli that I was crying because of the song. So smart and so paying attention to me even when I don't realize it. I feel so strongly the responsibility of being an example to them of what it means to be a eternal spirit in a non-eternal world. They watch so very much when I'm unaware. Ironically, they don't watch much when I actually wish they would! Ahhh, parenthood. Tonight I was trying to give each of the girlies special time. Line had especially requested it and so I tried to schedule bedtime so that I could start from the youngest and work my way from bed to bed, talking to them about their day, and giving them an opportunity to speak to me with no one else around to interrupt. I made my way to Line, "finally!", (her words) and laid with her and just talked about all that goes on in that guilt-ladden head of hers. I tried to be the best listener and non-judger to all she said while at the same time trying to listen intently to any and all promptings that Heavenly Father might send my way to help comfort her. After she was done unloading her stresses and worries on me, I paused to gather and collect my responses, prayed for strength, and proceeded to have a special one on one talk with her. Imagine my surprise when after my last sentence, she looks away and sheepishly asks me, "Mom, do you ever zone out?". I responded, "You mean, when your Mom is talking to you?" to which to said, "Yeah...how did you know?" Seriously...you never know when they're listening. When you want them to they don't, and when you don't want them to they do. Aaaargh.

I think I may have mentioned it in an earlier post, but I've been shocked that out of all the days of the week Sundays have so far been the hardest for me emotionally. I find it ironic that Sunday is also the day that I see the most people, thus, I imagine I seem to many like a train wreck. Who wouldn't after losing their husband and best friend, but still, I do have good days, or I should say more accurately, good moments. Sunday as a whole just is not one of them. I imagine that will remain so for some time. I believe that is because Sunday was the one day out of the entire week that no matter what, we saw our Dad and he was ours for the day. He worked so hard for us that on some days he would leave at 6 in the morning and come home at 11 at night. That was just the way he was. He didn't care if he was exhausted, he would do it because he knew we needed it. It was either his hard work ethic or maybe the fact that I did the budget and was a terrible nag...either way he's a saint in my book. He also loved being with the baby during all 3 hours and would make sure I had the opportunity to have some kind of spiritual recharging for the upcoming week. Plus he would gather the kids after Primary was over so that they weren't running around the church building and we weren't left trying to gather them up to go home...I've always said it often feels like herding mice. They scatter and scurry everywhere, and never where you actually want them to go. So, I definitely need a better system for Sundays. I'm sure I'll figure it out as I go.

As a result of my emotional instability on Sundays I feel especially weepy. This past Sunday I could feel Lose's eyes on me as I just could not manage to control the tears streaming down my cheeks. She'd keep leaning over to me and say, "Mom, you're crying." I'd try and reassure her that crying is just fine. She'd leave me alone momentarily and then would lean over again and comment on my water works to which I'd try again to reassure her that when you miss someone like I miss Dad, it's okay to cry. This happened several times but she was never able to leave me alone about it. Finally, she leaned over and said, "But Mom, crying is going to make your makeup all mushy and gushy!" So sweet, her concern for the state of my appearance...either she was concerned or she feared a bit of embarrassment when others saw black streaks running down my face. I leaned over to her and whispered that she didn't need to worry, I was wearing the waterproof mascara that my sister had bought me. She was so relieved, and it gave me something to laugh about when I really didn't feel like laughing. Aren't kids the greatest at doing that for us?

Over the past couple of days I've been enjoying the freedom of making a simple shopping list that just includes little things like scissors, light bulbs, fish food, a stapler, and corn starch to name a few, and being able to go to the store and buy them without first having to check when what bills need to go out on what days of the month, or first checking how much gas is in the car to know when I'll possibly need to get more, or checking how much milk and bread we have to make sure that I have the money for the things we need before we get something extra like a stapler. That's been our life ever since I can remember. But since Naki's died, combining all of our dear friends' contributions and also with my parents amazing efforts at trying to make things around here "mainstreamed", as my Dad says, so that all I have to worry about are these precious babies of mine, I got to go to the store and buy new pillows and pillowcases for everyone. Such a treat! They were all so excited to have fluffy pillows. It was cute to see them standing there in the isle of pillows and reading the packaging. Some pillows are apparently made for side sleepers, some for back sleepers, and even some for stomach sleepers. See how out of the loop we are in the pillow market? It filled me to see them happy about something as simple as sharing with each other how they all slept, and hearing them make cute little comments about how they start in one position and then change to another. I love hearing them talk about inconsequential things or every day things for once instead of all of this serious and sometimes heavy stuff like death.

After our run in with the puking bug this past week I decided to invest in some waterproof pillow protectors as well. After Family Home Evening last night I had all the girls run to their beds and bring back their old pillow. We tossed those and opened all the new ones. When we pulled the pillow protectors out of their store packaging we discovered that they actually go over the pillow and then zip up...I wasn't expecting this. So we zipped away and then put on all the pillow cases. I sent them all to bed and was surprised to find them all having the same hilarious experience with their new pillow. Apparently by zipping up the protector completely it eliminates the opportunity for air to escape the pillow when you put your head on it, thus making it pretty much like an air mattress. They figured out that you could go from a sitting up position, back to a reclined position, and bounce back up to a sitting position pretty fast. It was so comical... Tonight Eva actually stood on her bed and said to me, "Swim, Mom, Swim!", put her hands above her head like she was going to dive into a swimming pool, and dove onto her pillow. She promptly bounced right back up. Don't worry...my girls are not all bouncing around in their sleep. I figured out that I just needed to open the zipper a little bit to give the air an opening to escape from when they put their heads on the pillow. A bit of comic relief. Just what we needed.

I learned a valuable lesson yesterday. Well, that's not actually very accurate. I've "learned" this lesson many times before, so I guess that I actually relearned a valuable lesson. I go to the gym in the morning after I drop the babies off at Grandma and Grandpa Maile's house and the big girls off at school and get home around 9:30 to 10:00. It seems there is always something that I have to be doing. I don't mean that I want to be doing, but that I HAVE to be doing. It usually involves the kids. They want me, and so me they get. Of all days to not take a shower, yesterday was the worst. I swear at least 5 families came by, I needed to make a Walmart trip, we went to the Cemetary to get some monument ideas and ran into the guy I met with to buy the plot, and the list goes on and on. It was mortifying to me to have to be around all those wonderful people and give hugs and such while I was so stinky and gross, and again, looked like a train wreck. Now don't get me wrong...I'm not one of those women who feels like she has to apply lipstick as soon as she's done eating a meal. But I would like to think that I could get at least a shower in there somewhere. The irony of it is that those days never seem to happen on the days when I did get a shower. I get all gussied up and then no one makes any appearances. What's with that? How does the universe know when to send people my way when I haven't showered? Well, I've decided that I'm not above using it to prey on people's sympathies..."Oh, just look at that poor unshowered widow...we must, just absolutely must do anything we can to save her from herself!" Just kidding. No one has actually said that TO me, although I swear some have thought it, and I have been so touched by all of Naki's and my dear friends amazing and overly generous offerings that I would never abuse it. I complained loudly about my unshowered experience to my parents and as a result they both, one here and one in Idaho, kept asking me throughout the day, "Have you showered?". Oh, for everyone to be loved and cared for the way I feel loved and cared for.

I'll Do It, But I Won't Like It

It's official. We finally own Eli. Not sure if that's wise...perhaps we should have gotten a money back guarantee. (Just jokin', Eli...you know you're stuck with us forever!) This past week I paid the last installment of the bill from the hospital from when I delivered Eli...yup, that's 4 years of paying on that same stinkin' bill. I've always taken on the responsibility of the household finances. Not because he isn't capable, but because quite honestly I'm too much of a control freak to NOT be the one doing it. He sees the wisdom in 'allowing' me to do them instead of him and I know he is so proud of me for having figured out a way to not only have kept a bill collector off of our tails but for actually making sure that with our meager budget I found a way to meet all of the needs of our household. Just another thing I'm glad I already know how to do. I can't imagine if he had been the one doing it all along what I would have had to do to get up to speed. He may have been the one to bring in all the money, but I'm the one who knows how to spend it...I can't help it; it's genetic.

I'm not gonna lie. Reality has begun to set in. (As if I need any more reality checks around here.) But since Naki died and I've had the troops rally around me, I've always had extra help, and thus, extra hands. We started off the night with a round of trick or treating around our neighborhood with the adorable Brousseau family and Grandfather and then went to the Ward Trunk or Treat last night and intended to meet up there with Naki's brothers and their families. Grandfather had worked and worked himself all day in organizing and working side by side with a group of BYU students. A dear friend of our family is in the Bishopric of a BYU student ward and between he, my Dad, and my brother-in-law Matt had organized quite the group effort to touch up the exterior paint on parts of the house and to stain all of our exterior fencing. So we gave Grandfather the much needed and well deserved break and went off to meet the Maile family at our ward building. I, of course, was a bit early, and so the kids wanted to get started right away. So we unloaded and set off. I can't seem to find the right words to explain the change I felt in that moment, but it suddenly occurred to me as I lost Lose for only the 5th time, that it's just me. Duh, I know. Like that's new information. That I alone, as I stood there for the very first time with no extra hands, am responsible for these children in this moment. After regathering them all around me, I tried in my most 'I am SOOO not kidding' voice to let them know that under no circumstances are they to leave my side. As I was standing there with 6 sets of hands pulling me in different directions, and 6 sets of ears not listening to my instructions, I realized that this could indeed be a very long night. And I can look like a fool with my head spinning in 6 different directions, or I can take charge and help this go as smoothly as possible. I wouldn't say that my head wasn't still spinning, but I think Lose got the message. She stayed with me the rest of the way, but needless to say we were all overly thrilled to see the Maile family roll up. Whew. Extra hands and extra hearts. It was perfect timing. We hopped from one place to the next and ended up at Grandma and Grandpa Maile's house with all their Maile cousins and also the Zeller clan. That was so great to have everyone together...I know Naki is smiling and feels so proud every time he sees us all together.

It was all exhausting yet fulfilling to know that they all enjoyed themselves. My goal is to make things as close to normal as possible, even though it puts me in places that I really don't want to be. I'll do it, but I won't like it. Truthfully I just want to curl up in a ball on my bed and do nothing. I want to sit in the shower and let the water run over me while I cry and just be alone. I want to know what it feels like to just sit and read a book peacefully just for pleasure again. But that's just not the way it works, as Eli says. It just isn't.

I got all the kids bathed, fed, and in bed before I fell apart. I can't even put words to the emotion that I felt. I just knew that I needed to cry. I came upstairs and felt too dark inside to blog and write it out. So I turned the lights off and curled up like I'd been craving and waited for sleep to take over that horrible feeling. But Heavenly Father knew that I didn't need that. Ane immediately started to cry in her bed. It was heavenly to just hold her, cheek to cheek. It was exactly what I needed. Cuddling with a baby cures all my woes. Why do you think I kept having them? Y'all better watch over your cuddly babies...I just might be snagging some for the free cuddling. I'm sure I'll need it.

I had just warmed a bottle up for her when Eli let out some seriously frightening screams from her bed. So I raced downstairs and thrust Ane into my Dad's hands and said you take care of her and I'll take care of Eli. Apparently she wasn't as healed from the hurling bug as we had originally thought...nothing like scrubbing some throw up off a mattress, the carpet, and your baby to pull you out of self pity. The immediacy of her situation forced me out of mine. By the time I'd rebathed and dressed her, scrubbed the mess up, and remade the bed with Grandfather, I was too tired to feel any more blah. I just went right to sleep.

The residual effects were still with me this morning, however. The week Naki died I remember telling my family that Naki's very very very most bestest favoritist day of the year ever was coming up. He cherished it more than any holiday, birthday, football game, or celebration of any kind. Drumroll, please....Daylight Savings Time. That boy lived for that extra hour of sleep. Since we've been married he was always getting by on not enough sleep. So the concept of a freebie was just so precious to him. I would herd the kiddos downstairs and shut our bedroom door so he wouldn't be bothered. It's a big deal to me too, don't get the wrong idea, but I get to take occassional naps during the day, and he never does, so we all tried to leave Dad undisturbed on his favorite day of the entire year. In honor of that, my Mom had the smart idea to spend that morning at his gravesite. So in addition to the Halloween madness the night before, after the girlies were all in bed I trekked to the store for some breakfast goodies. I gathered the girls and the treats up and drove over there this morning. It was perfect. They had such a great time there and certainly there is a lot of wisdom to the first time going back being a celebration of something happy and cheerful. They were giggling and having a great time walking around reading other's monuments. After a while they noticed something that I'd already noticed on first arriving. Ummm...a deer or something like that pooped right where all Naki's flowers were sitting on his plot. At first, they were all grossed out and some of them were even, I'd say, slightly offended at the idea of an animal doing such a thing. I heard one of the girls say, "Can you believe that something pooped on our Dad?". I corrected them and said, "Girls, something pooped on the grass, not on your Dad." Then they all started giggling and laughing and said that it was perfect because of all the times that they had all at one time or another pooped on him, too. Ahhh...kid's humor. It was just right.

I wasn't feeling up to church. I know without any doubt that I need to be there. The Lord wants me there. Naki wants me there. I want me there. But that was the only place we spent consistently as a family. It just seems so especially desolate inside me when I go there without him. Add to that that we weren't a quiet family in church to begin with, and with some of the new behavioral traits that some of the kids are using to cope with their grief we're REALLY not a quiet family, and well, it's just not condusive to feeling the Spirit or for others around us to feel the Spirit. So I'll do it, but right now I don't like it. I have confidence that in time it will get better. But right now it's just so darn difficult. I came up to my room to shower and get ready for church and had my Surprise of the Day. Some time ago, about a year, I was really struggling. Having Ane really threw me for a loop. It took all 9 months of the pregnancy to get used to the idea of being pregnant again, and it's taken me almost as long to get used to the idea of being a mother of 6. Around the time when Ane was about 3 months old, Naki did the sweetest thing for me. He'd taken a piece of notebook paper and had written sweet statements of encouragement and compliments and had gone through the house and taped/placed them in places he knew I'd go that day so that I wouldn't be alone in my struggles. I found one above the washing machine, one taped to the side of the crib, one taped above the garage door opener, one on my pants shelf, one in my bathroom, one in my dresser drawer, etc etc. They were everywhere. I never moved them, but left them where they were so that I could see them over and over again. As time passed, some of them were knocked or pulled down by little chubby and curious fingers, and I'd lost track of which ones were still around. I remember the day Connie arrived after Naki died, I think it was on Friday, I told her to please look around and if she saw any of them to grab them for me. I have been disappointed because I couldn't find as many as I had liked. As I was digging through my dresser drawer this morning, much to my astonishment I found not one, but three notes in his precious handwriting that were the most perfect words from him that I so needed to hear on this particular day. They read,

Please know I'm thinking of you.

I love you and am thinking of you.

I love you and I KNOW you can do it.

I can't hardly type those words and see the computer screen at the same time because every time I read them I know without any doubt that that is exactly what he is saying to me right now. He has always been my biggest cheerleader, and I have absolute confidence that he is cheering me on right now. Babe, I'll do it...I'll do it all, whatever "all" of it is. But I won't like it. I don't like what's now my life. But I'll do it because I know you'd do it if things were the other way around. I'll do it because I love these babies, the Lord, myself, and you so very much. I'll do it with the faith that someday I'll have come to understand so very much about what these experiences can teach those affected by them. But in all honesty right now I truly do not like it.

Surprise of the Day

Last night turned out to be an interesting one. Eva decided unbeknownst to us or her, I'm sure, to share whatever bug she had the other night with three of her other sisters. They all decided to let me know they were feeling uckky simultaneously. Well, technically, Ane fell back asleep after she threw up, but the other two were up all night, moaning and groaning, heaving and hurling, and were very unhappy about the entire situation. Grandfather was especially concerned about Ane being sick again in her bed and perhaps something going terribly wrong in the process and so decided to set up camp outside her bedroom door on the floor. I'm sure it couldn't have been all that comfortable. I set up camp in the living room, but really didn't sleep and spent most of the night rubbing backs and trying my best to comfort and reassure them. I felt so terrible for my babies! Who likes to throw up? They have been trying to recover throughout the day today. Eli seems to be doing the best out of all three...we'll see what kind of night we have tonight. As a result of being sick, Lose missed her first ever Halloween Costume parade that the school has every year. She was, needless to say, very very bummed. She and I are both hoping that she can get feeling better so that she can have her game face on for tomorrow's trick or treating marathon.



What is it about Halloween? I'm just not a big fan. I don't think I ever have been. I was trying to describe it to some friends today while Eva and I were waiting for the parade to begin. I think I dislike it so much because it puts me in the situation of trying to create something, specifically the costumes, out of nothing. I'm just not creative in that way. It's not just that I can't think of how to portray a certain costume, but I struggle to think of what costumes to do at all! Add to that my desire to make sure that the girls always like whatever costume we can come up with and that they don't feel that they don't have a good costume because we don't go out and buy them, and it just gets a bit draining for me. It's one of those things that I'm always grateful is over.


The one thing, and possibly the only thing, that I do like about this holiday is the pumpkin carving. I'm not sure why I like it, but I do. Well, I suppose that's not entirely accurate. I like making sure that my kids get to do it, and I love the way it smells, and the way the light shines out of them when they're finished, but I don't actually enjoy the carving. Naki and I had a great arrangement that we perfected over the years. He would help the kids figure out what design they wanted, help them get said design onto the pumpkin, and would help get all the carving done. I, meanwhile, would be making the caramel apples covered with milk and white chocolate drizzles. Wait a minute...no wonder I love this part of the holiday. It's because I don't have to do it and it gets done! I enjoy the tradition of it and the nostalgia it holds for me, the fact that Naki loves doing it with them, I enjoy eating the treats, but most of all I enjoy that it all gets done and I don't have to do any of the work! Luckily my earthly angels came to my rescue tonight. My sister Connie and her husband Steve came down from Nevada tonight with their kiddos and with their efforts and my Dad's incredible cutting and clean up duties, together they got it done. Check. Cross it off of my list. I wanted to make sure that it got done, even though I really didn't want to do it. The Grief Therapist told me that one of the worst things I could ever do right now for the kids would be to remove the traditions that they hold dear. Those traditions are linked in their hearts and minds to their Dad.

I thought we'd made it through another Dadless experience, much like the pumpkin picking, without any difficulty. But we had a grieving moment, Line and I. She was having parental listening troubles and we were discussing that. It became clear to me that it had much less to do with where she was getting dressed after her shower, or whether or not she'd brushed her hair. She was able to express to me that she is having much trouble finding any type of joy in any of her life right now. Not just in these traditions we're trying to continue, but in her day to day actions as well. She just said that more than anything she just wants him to hold her, to talk to her, and to tell her the things she needs to hear from him. I told her that no one expects her to find joy in the fact that her Dad is gone and that we all want those things from our Dad and that it's not even remotely realistic for her to expect to feel joyfull as a result of his death. It is, however, realistic to expect that you will someday experience joy despite his death. Naki is a down to earth kind of guy, and so I was always surprised when he would tell me about the impact that your positive thoughts can have on your life...kind of like karma, I guess. I tried my best to pass this belief of his on to Line...that she can be sad. That's okay. But she has to remember that in order to grow and to move on with the expectation of happiness and joy in her life she needs to continue to hope for it, and have a positive outlook on just the possibility and her desire to have joy. It reminds me so much of Alma 32: 27 in the Book of Mormon. As a matter of fact, she and I read that scripture together earlier this week.

"But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even unil ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."

This sweet girl is struggling...as I'm sure all of them are. She just has never possessed the ability to withhold her thoughts and feelings...they're all right there on her sleeve. I can't wait for Grief Therapy to start...we start attending weekly on the 12th of November. I feel very strongly about the good that grief therapy will do for our little family. I CAN'T WAIT to get started.

Grief is filled with the "expecteds" and the "unexpecteds". I have to tell you. One of the most disturbing unexpecteds I've encountered thus far is the amount of people, mostly complete strangers, who feel entitled to counsel me in a disturbing and quite frankly disrespectful way. I have lost count of how many people have told me not to worry about being alone, because with my young age and good looks (who knew) I won't be alone for long because I'll be swooped up and remarried in no time at all. Really, people. The only reason I haven't taped their mouths shut is because I know that they mean it in the kindest way they know how. I see it like this. A. They feel so badly for me. B. They feel awkward and uncomfortable and are completely unsure about what to say. C. They themselves would never want to be widowed and alone for the rest of their lives. and D. They just plain don't think before they speak. (I had to add D because that's been me on a number of occasions, and I feel for others who are like me.) For reasons A thru D, I feel more badly for them than I do for me. I have, however, learned what to say. When they tell me not to worry, I won't be alone for long, I tell them that my husband was the first person to ever make me feel beautiful and I prefer to be alone than to try and replace that. Or I tell them that I actually like to be alone because the thought of being with anyone other than my Baby makes me nauseous. Or I tell them that no man could ever replace my girlies' Dad in their or my heart. Or I ask them if they want me to hold my palm out so they could possibly read the rest of my future for no charge. Okay, so I don't actually say any of those things. But really, why do people feel so entitled to give me advice like that? I wonder often if they can actually hear themselves. But, I remember many times when friends of mine were grieving from a loss and I myself just didn't know what to say to them, and I so desperately wanted to say something that would appease just a portion of their pain. So I've chosen to believe, out of the goodness of my heart, that these poorly informed people just want to help me feel better. I just smile and graciously say "That's so kind of you.." and leave it at that. See how wise and nice I can be?

Yesterday I had an appointment with the Social Security offices, which went smoothly, by the way. On my way there I got a call from a friend who I'm learning I have more and more in common with. She lost a baby about 5 years ago and has been so helpful for me throughout the last 2 weeks. She was telling me about how some days you sail right through and others you encounter a "Surprise of the Day". She'd discovered that there were moments when her emotions would catch her off guard. Those emotions and whatever triggered them were called the Surprise of the Day. I loved what she calls those moments. I told her I was going to start using that. I quickly thereafter received my Surprise of the Day. I was sitting in my Social Security appointment, waiting while the employee helping me was entering all of our applications for benefits. I started scrolling through my text message conversations to see which I could delete, which numbers I didn't have programmed into my phone, etc. Imagine my shock when as I was scrolling through I came unexpectedly on the last conversation, through text messages, that Naki and I had with each other. As I sat there at the desk across from this sweet little helper, I read the words "On my way home..." with his name right beside it. It so caught me off guard that tears started to roll down my cheeks. Poor little Angie, or maybe it was Ashley, my assigned worker, didn't know what to do with me. I found it so fitting that the last thing he said to me, through text, the night before he died, was that he was on his way "home". Can't wait to be home with you, Naki. Love you and miss you.

Zzzzzz

I am exhausted. Any sentence I begin to form only ends incomplete because right now I can barely lift my heavy dead-weight arms and . Good night...I'll have to try and play blog catch up tomorrow.