Line

Line surprised me today. When I asked her to please take Ane on a walk for 15 minutes around the block, she balked completely, and let me know very clearly her displeasure at the idea. This was a reaction that I've just recently started to see from her, followed very quickly afterwards with a sincere apology and a request for my forgiveness. When the timing was appropriate I tried to talk to her about her actions and how to not necessarily change the way she was feeling, but to change the way she allowed those feelings to affect the way she treated me. Shortly after our talk I couldn't find her anywhere. I called her name several times without any response. Immediately I thought that perhaps she'd run away. The notion of her doing such a thing seems ridiculous. Not Line. But her other behavior choices recently have seemed so out of character that I wondered. My fear was quickly calmed, as she was just down in her bathroom.

When she eventually came upstairs I told her that she had freaked me out! I shared with her my freaked-out notions that she'd perhaps run away, followed by asking her, "You'd never do that, would you?" She paused, much too long for my taste, and said, "Uhhh, in my drama-mixed-up head, yes."

Mom: Where would you go?
Line: Just to the park, and I'd live in the tree that I always climb in.
Mom: Well, at least I know where to look if I can never find you.
Line: I'd just sneak into parties at the park and eat their food, pretending I was invited. I'd come back home when it got too cold.
Mom: I bet you'd get pretty stinky, never getting a shower or anything.
Line: Oh, I'd wash in the drinking fountains, although I wouldn't do it in public. I'd wait until no one was around.
Mom: What is it about the park that is so enticing?
Line: Just being able to be alone sometime.
Mom: Well, I could arrange that. What about if you went into the backyard in the hammock, and I made sure no one else went into the backyard for an hour or so?
Line: (after a thoughtful pause) Okay...I guess that would work.

Oh, she and her dramatic mind kill me sometimes. I appreciated how it took us from a place of frustration with each other to a place of humor and giggling. Thanks Line.

This time of year is and isn't one of my favorites. Today the air smelled so sweet and fresh, the sun shone, it rained, there was a constant breeze, and you can just feel the change of the seasons and the year in the air. I've always adored that about the fall. Kids are back in school, schedules are once again in place, BYU Football is back after what seemed like a forever long hiatus, and the air just kind of buzzes with the hopeful expectations that come with the changing season. I'm frustrated this year, because one of my favorite seasons will forever be tainted...tainted with the death of my Baby, Naki. I can no longer experience this time of year without associating it with my "after". There are falls before Naki died, and from now on every fall will be one that occurs after he died. I don't like that.

Every year he would sit down with me and tell me the dates, times, and channels that the BYU games would be televised on, and I would put them in my phone to ensure I would never miss it. Not only have two, maybe three, games passed me by without my knowledge, but on the games that I have remembered and watched portions, it has been so difficult to enjoy them. Not because they lost! But because I didn't realize that my enjoyment from watching the games included sitting up late at night to watch the news coverage with Naki and hearing all of his insights and insider info on the players and the game. It's just not the same as it was with him involved, watching people that despite my love for the game and for the team I just cannot get that excited about. It's almost more painful to watch than it is to not watch. Even I'M shocked at the thought that I could skip a game and be okay. But just like every other hard thing that his death has brought into my life, I refuse to shrink under the weight of a difficult thing. I make sure that I have the game on and the girls wearing their BYU gear, if I can remember it. Tonight I found the schedule myself and put it into my phone so I won't be frustrated to realize that half of the game has happened without my watching it.

We're approaching pumpkin season, one of Naki's favorites. He always took on the job of carving and helping the girls with their carvings. I saw some pumpkins for sale today for the first time, and it took me immediately back to all the fun times we've had with those carving sessions. Chaotic times, but fun ones for sure. I was surprised to hear one of the girls ask me when they noticed the pumpkins too, "Mom, how are we going to do the pumpkin patch this year without Daddy?" We mostly go to the same place every year to get our pumpkins, and last year's visit seems so unreal when I think about it. My Dad came with us and helped carry all of the pumpkins that the girls picked, and my sister and family came from Nevada the night we were carving and helped with that. It surprised me to realize that for some of the girls last year's visit was somewhat of a blur, too. They hadn't remembered that this would be the second time to do it without Dad. To them the thought of doing it without him still felt as fresh as if we hadn't already experienced it without him.

We're approaching October 16th, and I'm trying to figure out exactly how I feel about reaching my first year landmark of Naki's death. Could it really be approaching so quickly? How exactly does time do that...Seem to move so slow and yet we're simultaneously looking back trying to figure out how it went by so quickly? When I was putting in the football schedule into my phone tonight I discovered that there is a game on the 16th as well as one the following week on the 23rd, which was the day he was buried. I don't know how I feel about that. What exactly does someone do on such a day? It is something to be acknowledged, for sure. But I'm still thinking through how to do it so that the girls don't feel any more down or solemn than necessary, at the same time trying to create calm and peaceful memories for them to remember. When Naki died the ground wasn't the right temperature to install a headstone, so I didn't worry about rushing into that decision in any way. As several months passed and spring approached, I knew that I neeeded to get my feet moving, but just couldn't bring myself to do something so final, as silly as that sounds. Like there's anything more final than not living, breathing, and waking with my husband. I finally did it, went to the Monument business that a friend had recommended, and started getting the engraving sketched up. We decided that a photo would be a good thing for the girls to have on it, so that the younger ones hopefully would be able to more clearly understand where Daddy's body is, and that portion of the process has taken longer than I expected. I was beyond thrilled when I called them this week to check on things to hear that they'd received the picture in the mail, back from the company they'd sent it to, and that the actual engraving should start this week. I had been praying that it would be finished and in the ground before his one year mark. I would do it all the same again, as far as waiting to order it as long as I did, but even so I really really wanted it to be finished and in the ground by October 16th. It looks like it should be finished with time to spare.

Line told me the other night that this time of year makes her think of Dad dying, just like me. She is such a worrier, as are some of the others. They just don't feel the impulse and urge to share their worries like Line does. She couldn't sleep the other night, for fear that I would be dead in the morning. She said that she was just starting to feel a bit better about our altered life, and knew that she just wouldn't be able to handle starting the whole grieving process over again should something happen to me. That girl's mind and mine are so similar in many ways. I agreed with her, that it would indeed be hard to start all over again. Once you've experienced death it's so easy to walk around, just waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time. I wish I could make guarantees to her, that no more bad things will happen that she will feel grief for, but I just can't do that. I did tell her that I didn't feel that me dying anytime soon was part of our family's plan, although I'll admit that as soon as I said that I realized that the night before Naki died neither he nor I thought that his early death would be part of our family's plan either. I shared with her that I'd learned not to ask God for no bad things to happen, but for Him to give me the strength and the faith I need to make it through whatever difficult times come my way. Every time the girls hear any type of siren, whether police, ambulance, or fire truck, they immediately stop whatever they're doing to say a prayer for whomever is involved. We Maile girls know that to pray that whomever is involved will get better doesn't alway happen. And so we pray that they and their families will have the strength they need for their circumstance, whatever it is.

Alma 33:23 (The Book of Mormon) "And now, my brethren, I desire that ye shall plant this word in your hearts, and as it beginneth to swell even so nourish it by your faith. And behold, it will become a tree, springing up in you unto everlasting life. And then may God grant unto you that your burdens may be light, through the joy of his Son. And even all this can ye do if ye will. Amen."

Where do I Start...What I've Learned Part 1

Fort De Soto, Florida
Florida Fireside Trip, 2010

I have sat down several times to write posts about past events and/or about pictures I've taken that I want to journal here on my blog. But every time I start, I find myself just staring at the screen, unable to find within my writing brain the words to adequately journal. Some may call that writer's block, but I know better. The real reason that I've been unable to write is because my heart is elsewhere. Every time I've written something on this blog it has flowed freely from my heart, through my fingertips, and onto the keys. Putting words to my emotions helps me to see myself more clearly. I feel my heart and emotions in the words that I've written, and that is exactly what is missing when I've been trying to write lately. I am not surprised to find this to be the case, as my heart has been wrapped up in an unexpected situation I've found myself in over the past two months. The details are not significant enough to share here. But what is significant is what I've learned through those details. And goodness, how I have learned.

I have learned that fear, in all it's forms, is a very real thing. There have been times over the past two months where I was very, very, scared. Scared like, lock all your doors all the time, jump at weird noises, or look over your shoulder constantly scared. Experiencing this type of fear has helped me to have more patience with the girls when they express to me their own fears, whether they resemble mine or not. Being so afraid brought me closer to God because where faith is fear cannot reside. I have lived that statement more keenly than I thought possible. Despite all of my unanswered questions that I had been talking to God about over the past 11 months, I knew, just knew, in this moment of crisis that He was there and continues to be there. I have conflict in my heart still, for sure, regarding a Father who has allowed for my heart to be broken so completely. But despite that conflict, I have felt the absolute assurance and comfort that He knows I am afraid, and that He wants me to turn to Him for all the strength I need.

There are times now and have been in the past when I'm walking in crowds with my girls all by myself, and worry that I'll lose one of them simply by them taking their next step a little off of the path that we as a group are taking. Many times I have used my hand, palm placed on their back, their shoulder, or the back of their head, to direct or redirect their steps, so that we can all end up at our destination, whether that's the cookie counter at Maceys or in our pew at church. I have felt that same generous, powerful, and guiding hand on me over the past several months, helping me with the direction of the next step I need to take. In my minds eye the hand itself is as large and long as my entire body, head to toe. I have felt small in size compared to such a strength-filled hand, and yet have not felt insignificant in the least. Just the opposite. Having so much fear, and feeling so frightened at circumstances beyond my control, has taught me that it is okay to be afraid, and normal considering the situation that I found myself in. But having faith is having the ability to continue on in the face of your fears. God is more powerful than any fear I may have, and I have been changed with that knowledge.

The girls watched a Veggie Tales recently about being scared. There is a song in it that they have since memorized, and sing it all the time. The lyrics are

God is bigger than the Bogey Man
He's bigger than Godzilla and the monsters on t.v.
Yes, God is bigger than the Bogey Man
He's watching out for you and me.

Totally silly, but it is such a great reminder for me every single time I hear them sing it.

Returning to the Blogging World

In July I decided it was time to see some very much missed family in Northern Idaho. When I returned, my internet refused to cooperate every time I wanted to use it. That does not make for a very good relationship. My modem and I had several lovely arguments about why it should be behaving much better than it was, but still, it wouldn't work. After going back and forth on the phone with our provider many, MANY, times, I gave up. My dear friend came over and looked at it for me, and it was decided that no amount of arguing would make it buck up and cooperate. It was time to just get a new one. I am so so so happy to say that I am returning to the blogging world, having missed it greatly. I must admit, it's amazing what one can accomplish when you don't have the internet as an option. We have had a crazy fun summer, filled with more than enough ups and downs. How refreshing to be able to admit that for the girls there have absolutely been more ups. We just returned from our Florida Fireside trip last week, where we had the best time. I am posting briefly, since we're doing cake and presents today for our September girlies and we still have things to do for it, but wanted you to see one of the most happiest faces ever. Here is one of the only video clips that I managed to get while in Disney World, but it is a doozy. Ginny and I laughed so hard after watching it over and over and over, that our cheeks hurt afterwards. There have been times over the last 11 months when I wasn't sure I'd ever see such pure happiness from this baby of mine again after all she's been through.

Hey everyone. I am posting the flyer today for what is hopefully our Fireside Group's last and final fundraiser for Florida. They were able to purchase tickets for some of the families from the fundraisers already done, and I felt so guilty when they purchased our family's tickets in the first batch. It has motivated me to do all I can to ensure that the rest of the group gets to purchase their tickets as well!

I am super excited about this last fundraiser. We are doing dinner and a show, with the dinner being nummy poly barbeque and the show being live entertainment including our group's band, hula dancers, and a fire knife dancer. We've been accumulating some fantastic items for a silent auction, and will also be giving away fun prizes throughout the evening. You just have to come! It will be held at the Tahitian Noni Gardens in Provo on this coming Monday, July 26th at 7:00. Prices are a steal, $15 for all those over 12 years old and only $3 for those 12 and under! Line and Malia will most likely be dancing also.

I admit to procrastinating starting selling my share of the tickets. I would love to be able to sell at least 20, so please pass the word along. It will be an excellent activity for a group of friends, couples, and even families. At the time of our last fundraiser many of you expressed the desire to post a flyer at your work. I know there's not much time left in the week, but I would love to bring you a flyer to post at your offices if you're still interested.

If you're unfamiliar with the Florida Fireside Group that I'm talking about, click here to read about our last fundraiser and why we're doing this.

We are just SO close to getting the whole group to Florida, and know that this will be a fantastic way to complete our fundraising. Feel free to call me at 801-787-8653 to reserve your tickets, or you can email me at thamailez@yahoo.com. Can't wait to see you all there!

...kay...having a hard time getting the flyer to upload. I told you most everything on it, and will post it as soon as I can figure out why it isn't uploading it. But when you contact me for tickets I will give you the address of the Gardens.

Naki's and my dear friend Mark Payne died yesterday morning, leaving his wife, my friend Connie Payne, and his three children and his four grandchildren. It is so rare in this life for me to find people that I honestly feel kinship with. Lucky for me when we bought this house we moved in right beside some of the best friends Naki and I could have ever asked for. Strange how that works. Here we were, in our twenties, admittedly young and naive, trying to navigate parenthood and adulthood the best way we knew how. Homeowners for the very first time, we found ourselves asking them all sorts of questions, borrowing all sorts of homeownership types of things, and trying to glean any and all knowledge they felt so inclined to share. I felt completely inadequate as neighbors and friends, having bought the house from the Paynes' friends and our friends as well. I knew that we would never fill their shoes in the same way and lucky for us Mark and Connie never expected us to. I feel they were constantly on watch for us, warning us about things we would never have thought to consider, and provided many a good chat over the fence. We'd occassionally sneak over at night into their house when the kiddies were asleep to talk with them, and I love remembering the feeling of love and acceptance that Mark and Connie show us. Somehow it meant a great deal to me to be treated as an equal instead of the youngsters that we were. Mark is ever the kidder. Anyone who knows him knows that. I realized that his joking and poking at me was a genuine sign of his compassion for me, and grew to welcome it for what it was.

Mark oversaw the entire State Hospital before he retired several years ago, and thanks to him Naki was able to get a job there and navigate his way through the road of State Employment. How Naki loved to talk shop with Mark. I can't count the number of times that he would go out to take the trash out and wouldn't come back for an hour. Mark had heart difficulties his entire life and I'll never forget the day I was downstairs, probably either pregnant or having just had a baby, and I heard some sounds out my basement window. It was a Saturday and Naki was at work. I was horrified to see Mark climbing up a ladder, taking down our Christmas lights off of the house. Only he could know Naki's heart, having been in Naki's same position himself, and that Naki would've loved to have the time to do it himself, had he not been working two jobs, serving in a busy calling in church, and working on his Masters Degree at the same time. Mark was serving as Bishop when he was Naki's age, or therabouts. I remember just after Naki died there were people over at the house, working on the yard for me, getting everything ready for winter. They were trying to prune the grapevines that grow over the fence that Mark and Connie planted years ago. I didn't know how to do it. Mark had taught Naki and the two of them had always done it. Of course when I called him for advice he dropped whatever he was doing to drive right over and oversee it himself. I wish I'd watched him and had him teach me, but my grief was too fresh and I was sitting in my room crying at the time.

Mark and Connie moved a couple of years ago just up the street into a place that he felt would take good care of Connie when he someday died. Although I see the wisdom in that, how I wish she was right beside me so that as she starts her uneviable journey through grief I could hold her hand more directly through it than I can with her living elsewhere. I wish that there was some way to take this away from their entire family. How is it possible, I still ask myself, that such a good man could no longer be here with his family? Isn't there some way that when such an honorable and loving patriarch exists, that it could just be arranged for all of the family to die at the same time so they'll never know life without each other? Shortly after Naki died someone emailed me this saying, and I've actually seen it on plaques for sale in a store since then. The general idea is, "I hope you live to be 100 years old and I hope to live to be 99 years old so that I will never know a day without you." It sounds selfish, I know, because it means that the other person will have to know all the sadness. But when I sat down on my couch yesterday after having come back from Connie and Mark's house, it occurred to me that the sadness on her face and in the eyes of all the family there, seems too much to endure more than once. The reality of how many times I may have to feel the pangs of the death of a loved one shook me, and I wondered at the ability to do this more than once. I started wondering how I'll survive both of my parents dying, the possibility of living longer than any of my siblings, or just the possibility of those close to me dying, and it seems like more than I can process emotionally.

I started to wonder at the lack of preparedness that we are equipped with when dealing with the death of a friend or family member. We study all kinds of things from the time we're able to, learning how to read, learning the history of our country, and how to add 2+2. We are schooled in all kinds of topics, some of which we never even actually use. I personally prepared for marriage and children, studying both topics so that I was armed for success. I've googled so many different topics since I can remember, learning random facts even just today, such as why flamingos are pink, and why the United States entered World War I. How is it, in all of that, that I and those others who death has burned and disfigured, that we have never studied a day in our lives for it? Yesterday I thought that I knew for certain that we have crippled ourselves as a human race by not preparing ourselves for something that no one will ever escape. As I lay in my bed last night tossing and turning to find a cool spot on top of my covers, I couldn't stop thinking about Connie, going to bed for the very first time without her husband beside her. I thought of her waking just that morning at her and Mark's cabin, walking outside to find the shell of him laying on their front porch with his flashlight still on from sometime earlier, and the trauma that she will forever live with from that very moment, as I still try to live with the trauma from my death moment. Couldn't we have been better prepared? Why is death such a shock to our systems when we know the inevitability of it?

It was then, as I tried to imagine all of us walking around day to day, preparing for death, studying and learning about it, that I saw the bleak picture it painted. How empty a life would be if you were constantly preparing for the end of it rather than living it. The joy and memories that I have of Naki's life, and I know that Connie has of her life with her Mark, come because of our ability to cherish those times spent together, unmarred by the bleakness of imagining that same experience without them.

It seems to me like there should be some kind of balance of the two levels of awareness, but I don't know what it is.

I just know that today at church I walked around, frustrated to see so many people's lives going on untouched by the loss that the Payne family will forever feel from yesterday and on through the rest of their lives. I felt annoyed that the earth's axis continued to spin when theirs has come to such an abrupt halt. I wore black today in honor of Mark and his family, something the Polynesians taught me. It was my outward expression of respect, love, and remembrance of such a great man.

As I layed trying to sleep last night, I pictured Mark and Naki, together, concerned for their wives and their families. Would we all be okay without such strong men, sons, fathers, and brothers? It just struck me that whatever questions I am struggling with about the eternities, one thing I know for certain, is that these men will forever care about the well being of those they left behind. It brought me peace to imagine them together, two peas in a pod, two friends with another common purpose, and I can picture them talking shop once again, this time having their "shop talk" be the future of their family still on the earth.

Hershey's Track and Field Event

There's an annual track and field event put on nationwide by Hershey. It starts locally and as you do well, I think placing 1st and 2nd, maybe 3rd even, I don't know, you move on to the next meet. Line had so much fun this year participating in a relay with two of her cousins and one of her cousin's friends thanks to her Uncle Rex getting her involved and for taking her to and from the first two meets when I had sick kiddos. The girls were so dang cute! They had their first meet in Provo, then moved on to the next meet I think south somewhere...and then they moved on to their final meet in Kamas, Utah which is close to Heber and Park City. We have the best family, and I love that we can spend time together that ends with us always wanting to get back together soon. I know that this isn't always the case with families, and feel so blessed to be a member of a family that works hard at staying unified and unselfish.

We had a lot of time to burn since the girls needed to be there early to register/sign in and yet their race was one of the last events of the meet. After a bit of exploring we discovered some sand volleyball courts behind the Rec Center that the track was located beside. I don't know exactly what I was thinking, since bubble solution and sand are some of my most irritating textures that I try to avoid, and yet we spent a good amount of time playing in both. The kids had fun, and I tried to not cringe every time I saw sticky fingers covered in bubble solution then become covered in sand. Most didn't seem to mind it. I had this huge wand that I would just wave around and tons of bubbles would result. The kids dubbed themselves 'bubble warriors', and when you take into consideration that in order to be a warrior meant you were required to run around with a stick popping all the bubbles, it was quite the miracle that no one ended up getting poked in any way. Ane quickly became irritated at the amount of yucky stuff that somehow kept ending up in her mouth, and decided that it was more fun stealing everyone's shoes.





I spotted Uncle Matt with a stop watch around his neck, which I thought was a cute touch. I asked Katie what it was for, and she said that she'd decided it was best not to ask.

I love watching these uncles with the girls. Matt helped them stretch and get ready to run. The girls did a couple of trial runs passing the baton, and before they knew it their event was being called. It was roasting hot so we only sat on the bleachers during the girls actual run. Some were creative in their attempts to find shade there...









These last pictures are of the scenery on the drive home, I believe. All the pictures are from Ginny's camera. Thank heavens she brings her camera along. For me, just getting to, enduring, and coming home from anything these days is about all I'm capable of, and some days not even that. Being on the ball enough to capture the memories has landed in her court, and she's saved me multiple times by always having her camera handy.

It really was a stunning ride home. It turned out to be the same road that we'd traveled on a couple of summers ago when we took a Maile trip to Rockport State Park for our first camping reunion. Naki had picked the site after much research and deliberation, and so it was sweet to be driving on that same road that the last time we'd been on had been together as a whole family. For me it was as if somehow, just by traveling on that particular road coming home, that he'd been a part of the days events despite his absence.