This Mother's Day

I recently read an article written by a woman my age.  It was about her mom, for her mom.  It was beautiful, and it made me realize that I don't need to write about my mom's death to process it any more.  What I need and long to do is write about her life! I started writing on Mother's Day weekend, and soon realized that what I had to say would be much longer than a blog post - or even 10.  So here it is - just a few words of tribute to my beloved mother, Ruth.

This is my mom when she was a little girl.  I don't know what age she is in this photo, but I think maybe around 10.  I love this for so many reasons.  When I look at this picture, I feel like I'm looking at myself too.

Here she is as a college student - beautiful, ambitious and ready to take on the world!  I never could tire of her vivacious energy or warm smile. 

I think one of the things that made mom so great is that she never tried to fit any mold.  She never fretted about how to be a good mom.  She never sat around reading articles about how to perfectly discipline a child, how to create chore lists, or how to make the perfect birthday party.  In fact, my mom was not a disciplinarian at all.  She never was super organized about chores (or about anything, really), and stressing about a birthday party was the last thing on her mind.  Don’t get me wrong.  Her kids were her life!  We were the very heart beating in her chest!  To me, mom’s genius was that she just lived her life with all the integrity, courage, and gusto she possessed…and it was a lot!  She didn’t stress out constantly about whether things were perfect, and she certainly wasn’t comparing herself to others (frankly, she was too busy to notice what they were doing)!  She just lived well.  We were along for the ride, and what we learned was huge. 

(Me and my mom when I was 4) 

 

(Me and mom at my wedding - 9 years ago)

Our birthdays were amazing even though she usually threw something together last minute.  She was just so incredibly good at getting 8 million things done at once!  When I turned 5, she made the most perfect Strawberry Shortcake Cake ever.  She didn’t spend the month before trying to figure how to make a perfect cake, she just bought the cake pan from the grocery store and whipped it up like it was no biggie - as though she had worked in a bakery half her life!  She had so much talent for decorating and beautifying, that I’m sure she’d have been a pinterest guru if pinterest were around when she was raising us.  But she would have never had the time for that – or the interest.  There were bigger priorities on her mind than cake tutorials. 

(This is the only picture of that birthday party that I have - I wish I had been looking at the camera or that we could get a better look at the cake, but this was the 80's, people.  Regular moms did not take 300 pictures at every event back then.  Nor did they fancy themselves photographers.  So, I guess it'll do!)

She could whip up a mouth-watering meal in 30 minutes out of scraps…and she often did!  I can’t tell you how many times we’d ask her on the way home from church what was for dinner, and her enthusiastic and cheerful reply would be, “it’s a surprise!”  Amazingly, the surprise was always delicious.  And no matter how hungry she was, she would ALWAYS give us what she had to eat if we wanted it. I know it seems trivial, but this really underscores her generosity.  

(Here mom is baking up a storm, or maybe just modeling a new apron on Christmas Eve a few years ago)

Mom led a purposeful life, full of many meaningful ventures.  She loved her business because her business gave her the opportunity to change lives.  She was all about inspiring people to fulfill their purpose on earth…to live intentionally.  Her intensity and drive to pursue goals gave us the opportunity to do the same.  To me, it seemed like the only normal way to live!  I won’t lie and say how much I loved her being on business calls all the time or having endless meetings.  What I loved most were the times that she wasn’t working…like the week before Christmas when we’d bake cookies and make wreaths and decorate and beautify and play games every night as a family!  

(Mom spending some quality holiday time with Weston and Sophie - 2010 and 2011)

I loved weekends, just like all kids do.  On Saturdays, my brother often had soccer games.  My mom rarely missed any game Mike played in.  Even though it was fun, I was sometimes embarrassed by her excessive enthusiasm and over-involvement.  I can still see her on the side-lines repeatedly shouting, “be aggressive Mike!!”  I’m sure it never occurred to her that the other moms didn’t do that.  Why should it?  I also remember going to the Price Club and watching Star Search on Saturday night.  Those were the days!

 I loved Sundays too because mom NEVER did work on Sunday.  She would play the piano and I would sing hymns (cheesy perhaps, but we loved it)!  We often baked on Sunday, and during the warmer months we’d lay out by the pool and talk and do our nails. 
  

(Mom and me in Hawaii when I was 9 years old - that trip is a truly sweet memory from my childhood.  I love the way my mom is looking at me in this pic!  I wonder what book I was reading...)

Every time mom prayed, she would thank God for allowing us the privilege of living on the earth at this time.  She seemed to always have uppermost in her mind the importance of preparing for the return of Jesus Christ.  She emphasized that we should never waste anything – not our time, our talents, our intelligence, or our opportunities.  She constantly taught by her actions and words that we should anxiously be engaged in the things that truly matter (learning, serving, working, doing).  I love that about her!  She certainly wasn’t perfect, but you could never say she was lukewarm about anything.  She didn’t let her imperfections prevent her from pressing forward with genuine enthusiasm.  She’d try to improve, but not waste time on regrets.  Her positive attitude permeated our life.  I didn’t fully appreciate these golden traits until I was older.

 (Mom doing business in Europe - it is so like her to take a pic next to some gorgeous flower arrangement!)

 (Proof that mom didn't always work.  Yes, those are UNO cards in her hands!)

It seems that motherhood was effortless for my mom.  Life wasn’t effortless, but lovingly bringing us along for the ride was second nature for her.  All of her pursuits would have felt meaningless without us. She adored and admired us, and seemed to have confidence that we could do anything…which she told us all the time!  No challenge was too great that we couldn’t succeed with flying colors (according to her)!  She would have us help her with business presentations – whenever she could convince us to, anyway.  She once had me fly to Ireland (when I was 19) to do a couple days of business training before she even got there.  I seriously didn’t think I had a clue what to do, but I guess I did well enough, because she seemed pleased with how it all went.  It is impossible to measure how much confidence she instilled in us with her sheer certainty that we were brilliant and could do anything, but I know I want to instill this same confidence in my own children.  I realize now that she saw our weaknesses, but didn’t focus on them. 

(My mother's greatest achievements. How I love this picture of my brother and me!)

Mom was in no way perfect, but for every flaw she had, there were a million ways that she made up for it.  For example, she made huge messes, especially when cooking.  And she usually cooked everything on high because she was in a hurry.  But she never got mad at us when we spilled things or messed something up, or locked her out of her room without a key.  Yeah, I did that once on accident.  She didn’t waste one second being upset with me.  She didn’t ever waste her time getting upset over the mistakes kids are bound to make – even if it meant huge inconvenience or added stress on her.  We never felt that we were a disappointment to her, and we never wanted to.  She loved us so well and esteemed us so highly, that I don’t think either of us could bear the thought of disappointing her.  I know I couldn’t.

 (Me and mom at my high school graduation)

After she passed away, I became quickly and painfully aware that no one else was as proud of me as was she, and if they were, I certainly wasn't going to hear about it on a daily basis!  Her encouragement didn't make me arrogant.  It made me feel loved and capable.  I am still surrounded by people that love me and are kind to me, but I sure miss the lady who knew my weakest spots and still believed in me one hundred percent of the time without reservation.  I am pretty sure this quality she possessed to truly believe in others is the reason that at least 15 different people told me after she died that she was their best friend.  She made everyone feel amazing, important, glorious.  The truth is, she believed that they were!

 (My mom with her dad, on the day my grandpa and grandma remarried each other (I was 12).  I found a letter recently that my mom had written me when he died (I was on my mission at the time)...she talked of how much she would miss his frequent phone calls, enthusiasm, and constant encouragement.  I know the feeling, mom!)

She especially could think no evil of her children, or so it seemed.  I am not sure really how this fierce conviction in our absolute goodness didn't produce conceited, ridiculous humans, but I think it had to do with something deeper.  She didn't think we were perfect, but she had an amazing way of reminding us of who we were and of what we were capable.  Once, when I was wasting my time hanging out with a boyfriend on a Sunday, not really feeling like going to church, she responded in a genius way that I'm sure she never thought twice about...it was the only way she would ever think to respond in a situation like that.  Instead of lecturing us or trying to force us in any way to get our butts to church, she simply asked, "Are you two noble spirits going to church today?"  She was so sincere and earnest in her praise of our noble nature, it was nearly impossible to resist the invitation!  And that was her way.

(Mom was always an affectionate person...and she certainly was never too busy or preoccupied to 

snuggle with one of her grand kids!)

(My mom with her lovely mom a few years ago.)

This Mother’s day, I am strengthening my resolve to be more like my mom - to love my kids more perfectly, to encourage them more continuously, and to choose patience over regret.  I won’t waste time obsessing about my imperfections; instead, I will push forward with gratitude for the opportunities that each new day brings. 

I love you, mom!!!!

Heartache

I will never forget the Monday evening conversation I had with my mom on the phone. She was in the hospital in Arizona.  I had just been at her house 10 days prior, when we still thought everything was fine and that she was getting better every day.  Now, still reeling from the shock that she did, in fact, have cancer again, we were facing the fact that surgery to stop her lungs from bleeding had failed.  She had her usual positive attitude as we talked, and she made the comment that everything would be ok.  Then she added, "one way or another, everything will be okay."  I wasn't completely sure what she meant by that at first, but then she told me that she had woken up in the middle of the night thinking, "be sure to tell Michelle I don't want anyone wearing black to my funeral!"

What!?!?!?  I could NOT believe my mom said that.  I was so floored, so horrified that I had to choke back sobs.  I tried to breathe calmly.  I didn't want her to know how distraught I was that such words had escaped her lips ~ that the unthinkable could actually be possible!  I can honestly say that prior to that conversation, I never once considered the possibility that my mom might not survive. NEVER.  I believe my brother asked me once in passing if I had ever thought that maybe this was mom's time "to go."  I said it had occurred to me as a possibility, but in reality I don't think it ever had...perhaps intellectually, but not emotionally.  I don't really have the words to describe the horror that I felt when my mom said she woke up thinking about her funeral.  Our conversation ended quickly because some nurses or doctors came in her room to talk to her, and I hung up the phone, relieved to cry freely and to have a moment to grasp what my mom had insinuated!

Never again did she express the idea that there was a possibility she wouldn't make it.  Never.  We would talk of "one day" when she eventually would die (thinking that it would be perhaps sooner than originally expected, but certainly after several more years at least)!   Even that was mentioned only once or twice in passing.  She had woken up in the night with clear inspiration that when she passed on, she wanted Carrie and me to pick things of hers to give to our children at every important occasion in their lives, birthdays, baptisms, and the like.  She was extremely concerned about still being a part of their lives.  That has been one of my main concerns all along, and the greatest cause for sadness since her passing.  As much as I miss her, I am far more pained at the loss my children have suffered.  I am so blessed to still have both of my grandmas at age 35!  Poor Brighton will never have the privilege of even knowing mom in this life.

I realize now that I wish I could have had some moments alone with mom while she was still alert there in the hospital.  There are things I wish I could have told her that were just too personal to say with others around, but I didn't realize it at the time.  I also had no idea how quickly she would go.  I remember that night, our eyes glued to the monitors telling us her blood saturation level, blood pressure, and heart beat...basically just watching and waiting for the inevitable.  It is amazing she lasted until morning, but I knew she was holding out to see Aunt Sharon.  She had seemed surprised when I told her Aunt Sharon was arriving in the morning.  I know her spirit willed herself to stay in her body until Aunt Sharon had come to see her.  Everyone went back to their hotel rooms to sleep besides Mike, Curtis and me.  Mike and I received texts almost simultaneously.  Mike's was from Carrie, telling him to tell mom that she loved her.  Mine was from Jason telling me to tell mom that he loved her.  I could not leave her side.  After Curtis and Mike fell asleep, I lay miserably on the makeshift bed trying to comfort Brighton who had a terrible cold and couldn't breathe well.  When he finally had settled, at last I had a moment alone with mom.  She wasn't awake, and honestly I don't even know if she was conscious.  I sat by her bed, held her limp hand and sobbed.

Ironically, I had just taught a lesson about prayer in young women's the week before.  I talked to the girls about ineffective prayer, and how begging God never yields the blessings we desire or need.  We have all been in that position at one point or another though we know it is fruitless, begging God to change something and make it be according to our will.  Although I knew it was a faithless plea, I found myself begging my Heavenly Father, "please don't take my mom away. Please don't take her from me!"  If I could have had a few minutes alone with her while she was awake, I would have told her how much I loved her.  I would have told her how much I wished I could have been with her those three and a half weeks in Arizona...how it pained me that I had not been able to be with her every moment of this terrible ordeal!  The anxiety that had been building - especially the last several days before we went to see her - was almost paralyzing.  I had been a wreck inside, but the moment I was able to be close to her, all of that melted away.  My heart had longed to be with her, and peace did not come until I was at her side.

When I think of the things I wish I had said, I realize that it probably doesn't matter, because she knows.  The kids and I talk about grandma every single day, usually several times but at least once.  Weston had a dream that he saw grandma standing a few inches off the ground watching him, and that she was wearing a white dress.  In the dream he was absolutely shocked to see her but very happy!  Sophie has many dreams that she is spending the night at grandma's house, and usually that she is fixing yummy food and helping her build forts and cuddling with her (some of her favorite things they did together).  I wonder what will happen as time passes?  I guess the inevitable thing is for her to feel like less of a force in their lives, but I so very much do not want that to be the case!

Most severe trials in life get easier with time, but I actually think that this one gets harder with time.  Harder because as time passes, mom's absence seems to grow bigger and is felt more deeply.  There is no one on earth that would get as excited as her about the great things going on with the kids.  When Brighton just recently began crawling, I couldn't think of a single person on the planet that would be even as remotely excited as would mom about this development!  I wracked my brain and finally realized that I would just have to be satisfied knowing that she is still aware of our lives and probably thrilled to have such an ambitious grandson.  I miss her enthusiasm.  I recently woke up missing the conversations we would have so often that would begin with her saying, "You'll never believe who I talked to today!"  She was always talking to so many interesting people about many great things that excited her.  I loved hearing all about the bits of good news she had to share!  I really miss those conversations.  Every Sunday night she would call, just as my day was settling.  Every once in a while I get a call on a Sunday night now, and I always think, "if mom were around, that call would be from her!"

Heartache is a part of mortality I have decided.  There are different kinds of heartache that we experience at different points in our life, but no one will escape it. The more we love, the greater the potential for heart ache. And so maybe it is just okay to live with the heartache.  It means there is genuine love, without which life is empty.  How grateful I am that we had such a wonderful relationship.  How much more severe and unsettling the heartache would be if I had reason to regret the way I had treated her (good thing this didn't happen when I was a teenager)! The best thing I can do now is focus on the many blessings that have come and will continue to come because of my mom.  Because of her love and absolute devotion, because of her tenacity and focus, because of all that she is and all that she gave.  She altered the trajectory of future generations by her faith, courage, and integrity.  Once she found truth, she clung to it and ordered her life by it.  I will continue to write of mom's life and legacy, because almost nothing has influenced me more profoundly than has she...and I cannot forget how magnificently blessed I am whenever I reflect on the incredible woman she both was and IS.

One year ago...

Last year after my birthday, mom and Curtis took me and the kids with them up to Bear Lake for Esther's baby blessing.  I was on the tail end of my morning sickness, but feeling good enough to enjoy myself.  We had so much fun!  I remember taking pictures of mom playing with her grandkids and just having a great time.

The rest of the month of June flew by with the usual activities for this time of year - girls camp, extreme heat driving us to splash pads, and the intensity of the fireworks season.  I was starting to feel good enough to function somewhat normally, although I was still very tired.  Mom had this weird swollen gland that was bothering her and that didn't seem to be going away no matter what she did.  Bodies do weird things sometimes, so I didn't think much about it.

On July 1st, a Sunday, I was teaching a lesson for all of the young women.  The lesson was on testimony.  I had asked a couple of the girls to briefly share their testimony of a principle of the gospel they felt strongly about.  I was searching my mind for another girl to ask, when the thought came into my mind to invite my mom.  Mom is always willing to share her testimony, always happy to help her children, so of course she agreed to come.  It was an unusually powerful lesson, and she added beautifully to it.  I could have never imagined it would be the last lesson she would ever hear me teach!  Lately I have thought a lot about that lesson, and how thankful I am that I followed the feeling to invite her.  I loved hearing her share her strong testimony with the young women.  I remember thanking her for making the effort to come across town even when her face was hurting.  She told me that it hurt no matter what she did, so there was no point to staying at home to rest!

Mom had asked me to help clean out her closet as her birthday present.  I ended up coming over the day after July 4th (you know, July 5th).  We spent the day going through her clothes and shoes.  I counted her shoes and even I was a little shocked at how many she had! The next time I talked to her, only a couple of days later, she was in terrible, excruciating pain.  Suddenly, the swollen gland seemed to be taking over her life!  Nothing helped.  Paula (our brilliant, nutritionalist friend) put her on an intense regiment of nutritional supplements to support her body, because she could barely eat due to the pain. She was practically living on vegetable juice. 

You know how there are specific moments in life that are frozen in time?  Moments that you will never, ever forget?  I had one of those moments sometime in late June, before the pain really became horrible.  I was laying on Sophie's bed after everyone else had gone to sleep (except for Sophie, hence the reason I was in her room)!  It was one of those peaceful, quiet moments when you let your thoughts meander, and I found myself pondering mom's situation.  Why did she have that swollen gland, and why had nothing seemed to work in making it return to normal?  I suddenly felt very, very worried.  The thought struck me that it could be something serious, that something terrible could possibly be happening to my mom!  It was a foreign thought, and yet it struck me with such intensity that I couldn't hold back the tears.  Sophie asked why I was crying, and I told her that I was worried about grandma.  It certainly was not the last time Sophie would ask me that question, nor the last time I would give her that same answer.

I had another one of those unforgettable moments on July 10th.  It was a Tuesday, hotter than you-know-where, and I was at the Dinosaur park with my kiddos.  I vividly recall a conversation that I had with my mom on the phone while walking between slides, trying to keep an eye on both Weston and Sophie.  She was telling me that she felt like she was in a battle.  She was testing strong for some natural anti-cancer tonic and a bunch of other natural anti-cancer treatments.  Paula was trying to figure out how to help mom until she could get some medical answers, which were painfully slow in coming. My mom's extremely busy, whirlwind of a life had suddenly become very still.  All she did from the moment she woke up until the moment she went to bed (where she couldn't sleep more than a few minutes at a time) was focus on the overwhelming regiment of treatments, juice, clay mud packs, etc. to help fight off the mysterious enemy in her body!  It was all so surreal. It was like she got plucked out of one life and set back down in another.  I have always been so close to my mom that a shift in her reality was a shift in mine too.  It was the first time I began to wonder, could she actually have cancer?  I imagined that she probably didn't, but forced myself to consider the possibility.  Notwithstanding my disbelief, I felt an overwhelming, oppressive sense of spiritual opposition that seemed to accompany the physical battle my mom was suddenly fighting.

By the time mom got her biopsy results in the first week of August, we were both convinced that she probably had some weird kind of infection from having recently had a lot of dental work done.  It was a shock to both of us, and to many others I imagine, that she actually had cancer. Cancer! How could it be!?  How could someone who took such great care of their health get cancer?  But in all that followed - almost two more months of mind-bending pain, endless tests, a terrifyingly invasive surgery, chemo, and radiation, there was never a worry of mom's life being in danger.  I was so thankful to know that the cancer she had was not life threatening...so thankful that the worse thing she could lose would be her smile (although I did have a meltdown in the shower one Sunday morning over it).  There was never any doubt she would overcome this obstacle.

I remember telling numerous friends how utterly grateful I was that she went through this before the implementation of Obamacare.  I was sure that had this happened later, the medical process would have taken even longer, surely resulting in her demise.  I also remember talking to a friend at the kids' school about all that had happened, and how my mom's cancer battle (all past-tense at this point) had completely changed me.  I felt as though it had permanently altered me as a person.  Cancer is one of those things you recon time by, like a wedding or the birth of a baby!  Little did I know that the battle was far from over.  Little did I know that I would lose my mom in a matter of months!  Little did I know that my entire future was about to be permanently altered.  Life is so weird sometimes.  Reality is stranger than fiction, and the one thing I have learned is that life is unpredictable!

My mind is still reeling at moments as I try to absorb the events that have transpired so recently, but I have peace that all is well.  I am compelled to write, and I know this is one of the best ways for me to process things.  It sure would be great to give my mom a big hug right now and catch up on everything that has happened in the last month.  At some point the amount of life that has happened since she left will be too much to explain, too much to summarize with her.  But right now, we could have a good long chat and still catch up, I feel.  Such ridiculous thoughts I have sometimes!  It felt right to indulge in them today, somehow.  It has been one month since I held her warm hand in mine and watched her peacefully fade away from this life.  I am so glad to know that this life is small compared to the eternities that lie ahead in the next.  I suppose there will come a time far, far in the future when I will talk with my mom about the small gap of time when we were separated...it could easily be 50 years, but in the eternities it will seems small.  How is that for mind-blowing?  Meanwhile, I have my husband, kids and many responsibilities to keep me grounded in reality, focused on the many important tasks yet to be done in this life, which for me is still near the beginning!

More than ever, my focus is simply to accomplish the mission for which I was sent to earth to accomplish.  I know mom accomplished hers, and I still feel her confidence in me, her encouraging belief that I can do it too. And I will!

Emotional, Fun Day

Today I miss my mom so much.  It just hit me when we came home this afternoon.  Today was the last day of school, and I just really want to call her and tell her about it, then go over to her house and watch Weston's kindergarten DVD together.  I want to talk with her about how fast the kids are growing up and how smart they are becoming.  I want to hear her telling them how proud she is of them, and watch their faces light up at her words of praise and encouragement. I want to tell her that Brighton got his fourth tooth this week, is already scooting around and loves to play with my toes!  I want her to be there to see him try his first food soon, and to be amazed together at how big he is getting.  On Saturday he will be 6 months old!  How is that even possible!?
I also want to tell her about all of the sweet and amazing things people have said to me and done for me over the past three weeks.  I want to tell her all about my birthday, and how Jason took me to her favorite restaurant and actually managed to surprise me!  I want to tell her that while we were there I walked past the table where we had eaten together several years ago on her birthday and I remembered that Carrot Top had been sitting behind us and randomly sang happy birthday to her!  I want to tell her that my friend, Katie, was my birthday fairy this year and totally took care of me along with so many others!
It already feels like so much has happened since she left, and I haven't been able to talk to her about it all!  I want to tell her that I finally know first hand what it's like to literally feel the power of people's prayers carrying me. I know that she already knows all the important stuff, but there is something so therapeutic about talking together.  Just like Heavenly Father already knows the truest thoughts and feelings of our heart, but we still need to communicate with him.
Today I received a gift in the mail from my Aunt Sharon, who helped me make it through the first 2 weeks after mom passed away (or as Aunt Sharon and I like to say...after she got "promoted").  She sent me a beautiful mother/daughter necklace set for me and Sophie.  The mom pendant is the outline of a heart, and the daughter one fits inside.  The both say "I will always love you."  In the birthday card she wrote: "I know you will always think of your special mother-daughter tradition on this day.  My gift to you is all about the mother and daughter bond you have with Sophie.  I know that you will carry on to be an amazing role model for her as your mom was for you."  Her note got me thinking about how my mom taught me how to be a woman!  Her words made me realize how thankful I am to have Sophie.  Somehow, having a daughter with whom to carry on some of the special traditions that I had with my own mom soothes me and brings me joy.  It also made me think of the special bond that Sophie has with my mom.  Almost every day Sophie tells me how much she misses her grandma and wishes she could talk to her.  I hope that bond that she formed with her grandma at such a young age will somehow have a special influence on her throughout her life.

As much as I enjoy writing my thoughts, dinner is calling me....or rather, the people who want me to make dinner are calling me. How great it is to have a sweet family to serve.
Here are some pictures from playing today at the splash pad after school:

 Brighton had a pretty good time just chillin with his cute little belly hanging out!

 Sophie and Owen being silly...

 My awesome friend Jessica brought a zillion popsicles, which all the kids were pretty thrilled about!

 Two of my favorite people, Katie and Sandy...and the only friends that would cooperate when I said I wanted to take their picture!  Are they cute, or what!

 Weston hanging with his Kindergarten buddies!  You can tell this one is posed, but at least they all stood still for a moment. :)

Thoughts, May 28

It is hard to comprehend that mom is really gone.  It all happened so fast. I was holding her hand when she slipped away from this life.  I helped dress her body and prepare her for the viewing.  I spoke at her funeral and then watched her casket be lowered into the earth.  Even though I was there as it happened, my mind is still working to absorb the reality of it all.  It is just so unbelievable and difficult to comprehend that she will not be a part of every meaningful thing that happens for the rest of my life!  I suddenly feel the need to write down every memory we have together, every great conversation, every little thing she ever did with my children.  I don't want to forget any part of it!  Right now our conversations are recent, but with time they will become distant.  It makes my heart sink to think that at some point, having my mom around will seem like it happened in another life time...kind of like how high school seems to me now. I could easily live 50 more years.  The thought of even one year without my mom is daunting, let alone 50!!
People keep telling me how strong I am. I appreciate the compliment, but I know this trial has only begun.  Anyone can get through a crisis, which is how the immediate 2 weeks following mom's departure felt to me.  But now, I've got nothing but real life ahead of me.  Day in, day out, with many responsibilities to fulfill.  I have my precious family to raise.  There are birthdays, holidays, and lots of normal days in between.  But none of it will be the same without my mom.  There will be so many days that I will long to hear her voice encouraging me and telling me what a good job I am doing, that I am on track, and that everything is ok.  At the end of April, we had a special activity with the young women - a standards night.  I was really excited about it and felt very inspired about the focus we had chosen for it.  Mom told me that she knew it would be great, that it would be powerful for everyone there.  Her confidence always boosted my own, partially because I knew she was praying for me, and partially because whenever she said it, I knew it was true!  She has always been my biggest cheer leader. 
It is perhaps ridiculous how many times I have gone over in my mind the same details, over and over again...but I think it is part of processing the trauma.  I wish I would have gone to see mom sooner.  I also wish more than anything I could have been closer to her while she was going through the last 3 weeks.  I wonder why I didn't have her come to church when Sophie gave her first talk in primary.  I wish I would have taken more pictures of her and I together.  Why didn't I?  I wonder why, when she said she wanted us to talk about great memories, I couldn't think of anything great!  Why didn't I think to tell her how good it made me feel as a child when I would wake up in the morning with red kiss marks on my face from when she kissed me either after arriving home late from a meeting or leaving early for one?  Or how I loved the way she tucked me in at night and had me imagine that I was snorkeling with all the beautiful fishies in the ocean?  I wish I would have just told her how much I loved her.  But how could I have?  I didn't want to make her cry, because crying made her cough up more blood.  It bothers me now that the entire time she had cancer, I never once cried in front of her.  There were so many times that I held it back.  I cried so much, but I always felt like I had to be strong around her.  How stupid!  I should have cried on her shoulder, at least once in awhile!  I wish so many things, but I could have never known the future.  I thought we had many years left together!  I honored and respected her, talked to her almost daily, and I saw her often. I think she felt my support, and I know she would never want me to waste my time feeling badly.  She would want me to press forward and not to dwell on that which I cannot change.
At least once a day I think about how lucky I am.  People die every day.  Some people have lost loved ones much earlier in life.  Some people have their moms with them, but they have a troubled relationship that causes pain instead of joy.  Some people lose loved ones under far more tragic circumstances. 
When I found out how bad the cancer was and forced myself to face the possibility that mom might not make it, I prayed fervently for three things.  The first thing was that her life would be extended at least long enough for us to write up many of the incredible experiences that has had over the years...experiences that would be invaluable to her grandkids.  Mom's hand was numb, so I planned on having her dictate these stories to me so that I could type them up for her.  The second thing was that at the very least, she would be able to write a special letter to each of her grandkids.  Again, I hoped to help her with this.  Neither of these prayers were answered, which broke my heart.  But the third thing I prayed for, which was the most urgent desire of my heart, was that if the Lord was going to take her, that I might be by her side when it happened.  I am thankful that God granted me that blessing.  I needed to be there.  I had to be by her side!!  My mom has always been my best friend.  There is an empty spot in my heart that I am going to have to learn to live with.  One day, that spot will be filled again, but not for a long time. 
Dealing with this new and unexpected reality has certainly been an eye-opener for me.  I know that I will better be able to comfort others who experience similar heart-break and loss.  And I know now how strong my testimony really is. I trust Heavenly Father and am confident that he knows better than me.  I don't like that he chose to take my mom so early, but I do know that everything he does is for the good of his children.  Knowing this is what gives me the strength to carry on.  I know that she will continue to be a part of our lives and bless us in ways we don't necessarily understand right now.  I know, as Jason says, that not even death can keep my mom from her grandchildren.  I don't like that I must adjust to a new normal, but because the Savior is the rock upon which I build my life, I can and will do so successfully.  I pray that this experience will make me more capable of serving God's children, because what's the purpose of suffering if it can't be used to help someone else?  These are the things I must focus on.
Here is a cute picture of mom with Weston and Sophie during Christmas a little over two years ago: