One More...

I've got a real sweet one...

Mom, my grilled cheese sandwich doesn't taste good.

Well, maybe that's because you didn't eat it and now it's cold.

No, it just tastes weird. It tastes like trees, and I know because I've licked one before.


*sigh*

Words to warm a Mother's Heart

1. Mom! Malia dropped her shirt in the toilet and it's poopy!

2. Mom! I peed...in Ane's bed.

3. Mom! Look. I pulled out my tooth and it's hardly bleeding at all!

4. knock knock knock. knock knock knock. knock knock knock. Someone get the door! (me) After answering the door, Mom hears, "It's Eva!"

And lucky for Mom, this was all in one afternoon. Will things ever calm down and get back to "normal"? My escape artist worries me the most by far. If you ever see Eva, please look around to make sure I am close by.

Putting me to bed

I miss knowing that at the end of the night I can sit down in any comfy chair and fall asleep. I did this all the time, knowing that it didn't matter where I ended up because I knew that Naki would come and find me after he got home from work to bring me up to bed. He would rouse me from my sleep, which is quite ungraceful to behold, would then convince me that I needed to stand up with his assistance, and would then walk behind me, going up the different stairs needed to get me to our room. I remember some of these times and truthfully other times I would wake in the morning, get out of our bed, and not remember him walking me there. Once I could have woken fully but decided to stay a bit delirious. It is a precious memory for me. He spoke to me so patiently and gently as I weaved back and forth with each step that I took. On my occasional misstep he'd guide me from behind, making sure that I didn't run into any walls or doorframes, something I'm known to do even when awake. He even chuckled a time or two...But the best part was when we got to our room, he sat me on the side of the bed and carefully helped me change into my pajamas just as you would a child. (I can really sleep deeply...) He even removed my earrings since he knew how much I hate to sleep with them in. He would always have the covers pulled down and the extra pillows removed before he even came to find which chair I was in, so that by the time he got me upstairs it would all be waiting and ready for me. That night, as he literally tucked me in and kissed me goodnight, I knew that I had found the most amazing man to be my partner and best friend. I miss you, Babe. I really really miss you.

Enjoying vs. Enduring

One of our home teachers left for his mission today. (Woo-Hoo!!! Go Wyatt!) He spoke in church this past Sunday about having faith in trials, and did a phenomenal job. Really. I wish you all could have heard it. He read a quote that I actually heard, since I only actually get to hear about 5% of what's being said while the other 95% of what I hear is Eva complaining about having to sit with us and not being able to just walk around the chapel, or arguing with me about keeping her clothes on, or stating very very loudly that she just wants to go home, or Ane fussing with extreme discontent at pretty much all the same things, and all the other girls arguing about whether or not they were able to sit beside me last week, when are they EVER going to get to sit by me, and then when told it's not their turn listening to them pout, kick the pew, throw the hymnals on the floor, keep their clothes on, and also state very loudly that they just want to go home. Yeah, church is pretty much a blast, I'd say. So the fact that there was something said that I actually heard and remembered means quite a bit. I couldn't remember the exact quote, but knew that the gist of it spoke about life not just being something to endure, but something to actually enjoy. Tonight I was going to sit down and try to find it, but first sat to update myself on other's blogs. Coincidentally, or not, I found it posted on my dear friend's blog. It's by Gordon B. Hinckley, and it reads,



"In all of living, have much fun and laughter. Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."



Is this really possible? I haven't been able to stop thinking about these two words, enjoy and endure, since Sunday morning. Do I find myself having fun and laughing since Naki died? Yes, of course. I have crazies surrounding me that provide those moments, even when some of them are painful-filled laughter...when Ane thinks she's such a big girl in her new car seat, calling out my name as we drive down the road over and over again so I'll look in the rear view mirror at her. Yes, I laugh. But I feel equal parts laughter and pain, as I think that Naki is missing this! I'm missing sharing this with him. And she's missing calling out his name to show off to him. Pain...when I hear her use his name for all different things, and not him anymore. Laughing? Fun? Yes, I have those moments. But I endure through all of them, and don't enjoy them. How do you get past the enduring and on to the enjoying? I want to be there so badly, but so far the only way I feel joy in those moments is to forget Naki. How could I do that? When Ane was calling out to me from the back of the car I had to push those thoughts of him out of my mind. That has to be some of the worst feelings thus far in this process. Survival means forgetting him. If in every one of those situations I thought of him I would be a inconsolable basket case. I would never feel calm, since thinking of him is a constant reminder that I don't have him with me. In order to be able to function, to breathe, to make decisions, to sleep, to eat, to not be a menace to society and all of our friends, I have to realign my identity as me...just me. And also my identity as one parent alone instead of one of two parents...part of a team. I look at them when they do things and think of them and me, not them and us. When I find myself thinking about him is when I find myself the most short tempered, the most moody, the most irritable, the most weepy, the most sleepless, the most robotic. And so I've cancelled the channel that plays Naki 24 hours a day. How could this be right? I am him, and he is me. We are one. By pushing him out of my thoughts I feel better for a period of time, but ultimately crash, feeling lost and solo. Enjoying? Hah. How could one be expected to enjoy any of this? That I don't understand. What I DO understand is guilt. Guilt and I are great friends. Companions, it and I. Guilt for feeding the kids cold cereal for dinner because I don't have the energy to do more. Guilt for knowing they need a bath but putting them to bed without one anyway because it's more than I'm capable of...I'll do it in the morning after what's hopefully a restful evening. Guilt because I do better NOT thinking of him than thinking of him. Guilt for being short tempered with the girls for no good reason. Guilt for becoming so easily frustrated at what others say that unknowingly hurts. Guilt for forgetting my sisters' birthdays. (I just realized I forgot them...) Guilt for feeling so bitter. Guilt for feeling so tricked about life, now that I know how life really is. Guilt for too many things to list. Any suggestions on how to get past the enduring and onward to the enjoying? I'm a bit of a pessimist, and must admit that my future looms gloomily ahead of me, and yet I want so badly to feel a glimmer of hope.

Ambulances ARE good...

Today was Joy School. All of my girls so far have participated in it, and we are all the better for it. It is a preschool that is taught by a group of mothers who rotate turns teaching at their house. The mothers this year have graciously filled in to teach on my weeks as it is impossible for me to tackle that these days. I've had joy school groups of 3 children, 4 children, and even 5 children, which is considered a large group, especially when in addition to the joy school kids you have your younger kids to attend to as well. As this year approached, the mothers met and knew that we would most likely have a group of 6 kids...quite a large group. But we all decided that we thought we could manage it. This meant that we would only have to teach every 6th week, and seemed worth the effort of having such a large group. My dear Joy School friend, a mother who's children I've had the privilege of teaching, and I were visiting last week about how they've all been taking my teaching turns for me. I feel so badly that they are shouldering my responsibilities, but know that teaching is beyond me right now. She reassured me that they were all happy to continue to do it throughout the year, and helped me see one more way that Heavenly Father was setting the scene for this awful time of my life. Had there not been such a large group this year there wouldn't be so many moms to help take my turns teaching. How grateful I am to all of them for being willing to serve me and Eli, my Joy School child this year. It has been overwhelmingly touching to see them all practice such patience with her (she requires just a bit more than the average munchkin, and that's on a good day :) ) and to love her through her grieving quirks. I love those women and want them to all know it.

Today was the field trip to go to a Fire Station. We have a fireman in our ward, who's kids have also done Joy School with ours. He is so easily able to relate to the kids, and teaches them so well. Both Eli and I wanted to be together for this particular trip. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that for us it may be somewhat difficult to see the back and inside of an ambulance...however, that genius was not me. It didn't occur to me that this could be somewhat traumatic, more for me than for her since she never actually saw her dad in the ambulance. But the last time I saw an ambulance it was with Naki laying on a stretcher with his feet angled just so hanging off the end while the EMTs tried so desperately to restart his heart. That is an image I will never forget. I was excited for Eli to have the field trip experience her sister's had, and knew that it had been fun in the past and so anticipated how much fun it would be for her. She was the genius that I should have been. While we were there she immediately grew insecure and timid about being around those huge and sometimes life saving pieces of equipment. As we stood at the back of the ambulance and our good fireman friend opened those doors, I was flooded with so many emotions. I tried hard to not start bawling...it would just kinda ruin the moment of anticipation and excitement that had been built up for the little kiddos...just a little bit. I imagined a dramatic scene of me shouting out, throwing my face into my hands sobbing, and running as fast as I could away from that place. Please, stop the drama...as I always say to the girls. So instead, as I stood there staring at the stretcher and trying to blink back the tears, I looked all around me at those adorable faces staring in fascination into the back of that ambulance. I thought about how unexposed to trauma and trials they are and felt grateful for that. It was refreshing to see such undulated joy and pleasure at the sight that for me feels so horrible and hateful. I realized then that it is unhealthy to always connect ambulances to Naki's death. If I relate every ambulance I see to the night of October 16th and all that means, then I am missing the mark. In that moment I instead chose to remember last year, when one of my little Joy School kids fell unconscious at my house and those brave EMTs rushed over and put that sweet little boy in the back of that ambulance. He is still alive. Eli helped me remember today when last summer at one of Naki's softball games a girl was injured and an ambulance came and helped her. I remembered how an ambulance and it's EMTs came to help my sister who delivered a beautiful healthy baby boy on her living room couch. And I'm positive there are many many more stories like those where much needed help has come from within the back of an ambulance. Today I was reminded that ambulances ARE good, just sometimes what happens inside of them has the ability to transform you in ways you hadn't planned.

Water Queen

Emeline. What a Heaven-sent little girl she is. She came to us, a woman trapped in a little baby's body, always carrying herself with confidence and determined to do things the way she saw fit. Always trying to please the people around her, and now with this new twist in her life trying even harder. I just want her to be a little girl, and to not worry about things that a little girl shouldn't have to worry about. She tries so hard to perceive my mood, and is greatly affected by it either way. She's like Eva, who randomly comes up to me and asks, "Mom, you happy?" or "Mom, you sad?". It's very important to her to know how I feel and I catch her quite often out of the corner of my eye just watching me, and trying to choose her actions based upon what she discovers. Lately she's decided that it would be helpful to start the little girls' baths for me. Although it truly is helpful, and I probably wouldn't have thought as much about it if her Dad hadn't died, I worry that the opportunity for her to be a little girl is quickly passing her by. It's not a bad thing to do kind things to help those around you. But I don't want her carrying a burden that isn't hers to carry. She's started a fun tradition with each of the three youngest girlies, and they actually look forward to her bathing them. Tonight she'd finished bathing Ane and was starting on Eli. I walked in the bathroom to hear the following conversation:

Eli: Oh, Line! You forgot to do that queen-y thing!

Line: Oh that's right. Here, you start with the soap while I add more water, and then I'll crown you Queen of the Water.

Aren't I lucky to live with Line, the ultimate Queen?

Empathy

Writing on this blog has been and continues to be such an interesting experience for me. Sometimes a thought comes to me and is so clear about how I feel about it that sitting and writing those thoughts out comes easily and effortlessly. I hardly edit anything, and the order in which my thoughts flow through my fingertips I don't question. It just happens and feels natural. Then there are other times when I feel I should post some pictures and some semi-normal (whatever that actually means) posts about non-death related events, like birthdays, get togethers, or even just a random picture. And then there are the posts that I agonize over. They are the ones that use the most mental focus, spiritual awareness, and careful word choices. These posts come from the most inner part of myself. They are the most self-exposing, the ones where I share my feelings that are difficult even for me to comprehend, and most times are still unresolved. I find myself mulling over thoughts repeatedly, day in and day out, so that I can wrap my mind and heart around exactly why I'm thinking about them over and over and also to try and discover exactly what impact they will have on my new self. When I sit down to write about it, because they're somewhat unfinished thoughts not yet completed or polished, I often hesitate as I write in the effort to try and find the words that match the feelings I've been having and now feel driven to transfer from mind to paper. I have now one of those posts developing in my mind. It's been there since Thanksgiving, and I'm just beginning to understand how all of the thoughts that have been spiraling in my mind actually fit together. I'm still not ready to write it all out, but as I was doing the dishes tonight after all the girls were in bed, a thought came to me so strongly that I cannot deny it's authenticity. Let me start with a little background.



Remember my post about friends? Well, I have met yet another friend. He has been irreplaceable thus far in the short time I've known him and am thankful for the insights he's shared with me. He served in the same mission as Naki and he and I have almost identical experiences. His wife also died while sleeping, also from an undiagnosed heart condition. He was left with 4 angels who rely on him in the hardest time of his life as I have been left with 6 during the hardest time of mine. He's about 15 months or so ahead of me in the grieving process, so has been able to understand some of the backwards and ugly thoughts and emotions of which I'm currently besieged. He asked me a question last night and I've been thinking about it all day. "Have you ever wished it was you that went instead of him?" Both of us answered that we had occasionally had that thought, but for different reasons. My reason was because my spiritual struggles lately have been laced with guilt that had Naki been the one alive with the honor of raising the kids he would never have struggled with his faith. He never waivers, no matter the challenge. I feel inadequate for the job because of my spiritual instability.



My friend's answer to me was so noble and considerate for his wife...that he had experienced those thoughts of wishing it had been he who had died but quickly dismissed them knowing of the pain that he's going through and how he'd never want her to have to experience it. I've not been able to stop thinking about his charitable consideration for her, probably because I've not been thinking about anyone other than myself. His response humbled me. I've been so angry for several weeks now and the last thing I've been considering was Naki.



That last sentence I wrote came as an epiphany earlier this afternoon and has has been pacing around my mind for hours, which brings me to when I was doing the dishes tonight. I was bouncing back and forth in my mind the ideas of being humbled by my friend's attitude, thinking more of Naki, and thinking about how I'd feel had it been me who had died. I tried to picture myself having died, now participating in things that I can only imagine must be hopeful and heavenly and having obvious joy from knowing I'd successfully completed my time on earth, but all the while feeling incomplete and sorrowful from being without my husband and babies. It was at that moment that I felt such clarity and empathy for Naki...that even though he is without the trials and difficulties that this temporal and mortal existance brings, how he must ache to be with us. I know that Man, and he feels whole when he is surrounded by his family. It is with a huge sigh of relief that I was finally able to feel empathy tonight instead of anger. I hope it lasts.