Being Ernest

22 days after my fathers passing, 17 days after being laid to rest,
my mother is celebrating their wedding anniversary…
53 years ago today.

These two worked side by side all of their married life.
As parents.
As business owners.
As missionaries.
As eternal companions.

They are two of my greatest examples in love and charity.
My father cared for my mother as long as he was able.
She then took care of him when he was incapable.

Happy Anniversary Mom.
I am certain dad remembers and is blowing you kisses from heaven!

Being Ernest

As a family, we were preparing to leave town the following week for our annual trip to Lake Powell.
After my last visit with dad, I knew things were a little off.
His look was “droopy”… I didn’t think he would last the year.



I had a strong feeling that I should have a plan in place, just in case I was needed at home during our vacation.
I checked out pricing for flights home and knew the best route to take.
Little did I know, we would never make it to the lake.

Mom received a call from dads care center Sunday evening.
He took a turn for the worse and they didn’t expect him to last 24 hours.
My husband and youngest daughter joined me as I rushed out to meet Mom and my brother there.
My oldest was at work and would join us later.

Eric was already there when we arrived. I found him in the lobby, trying to console his youngest son.
I made my way to dads room and immediately recognized the death rattle.
Mom arrived not long afterward. There was no doubt that we were spending the night there.
Without hesitation, we canceled the hotel, and Eric postponed his business trip.
Both mom and dad were given a priesthood blessing.

Evan and Taylor left to meet Kylee back home.
They gathered some things to help keep me comfortable and the three of them returned with my care package.
Eric made arrangements for G to spend the night at a friends and retuned after dropping him off.

Mom, Eric and I spent the night in chairs placed in dads side of the room.
We listened to him labor in breathing all night long.
The nurses took great care of him, administering Morphine and Lorazepam as prescribed by hospice.
In the morning, mom left to care for her dog and eat some breakfast. Eric and I stayed.
Dad continued to struggle with his breathing. Just listening to him wore me out. I am certain he was exhausted.
Mom returned and the three of us watched, listened, and waited.
Dad took his last breath at 11:01 AM, Monday morning.

My immediate thought…. Dad has CLARITY!

we forgot…

Forgetting is a natural side effect of aging.
At least, that is what I am blaming my recent and shameful forgetfulness.
I might add my husband to this statement, because we forgot to remind each other.

Under normal circumstances, this is not a big deal.
Usually, we can overcome these oversights.
But, when it effects a third party, recovery is not as simple.

Ever since their first birthday, each of our daughters received roses from their father.
One, for every age.
A single on on their first birthday. A dozen for #12, Sixteen for sweet 16.
Well, you get the picture.

This year would have been 26 for our eldest.
But is wasn’t. We forgot.
But this is not the only forgotten tradition.
All of the usual pomp and circumstance of birthday week (as we affectionately call it)
were also downgraded. No wrapped presents. No birthday cake.

In our defense, we did not forget to eat.
That is something we hardly every forget to do.
And, Kylee did get to choose.

So, as I try to sort through my guilt,
I have to remind myself that we did do something good.
We raised a daughter that is easy going.
We raised a daughter that has never been overly dramatic, self centered or demanding.
We raised a daughter that faithfully served a mission and returned with honor.
This birthday came and went with hardly a peep.

As I prepare now for the birthday (week) of my youngest.
I laughed a little when I though to myself…
The first born has to deal with our mistakes.
The second born has to deal with our over-corrections.

Again, I remind myself that we did do something good…
TWICE!

Being Ernest

I had one goal today for my visit with dad... trimming his fingernails.

I set out with toenail clippers in hand (that's right!), and my youngest daughter.

When I arrived, he was not in his usual spot in the dining room. Today, he was in a recliner in the TV room, fast asleep. I nudged him awake and said my hello's. I gently held his right hand and promptly snipped away. Some nails already shortened by his own incessant picking, others quite long and thick. (Hence, the toenail clippers.)

Getting to the left hand was not as easy. I literally had a battle on my hands. He was pulling away, grabbing my wrists, hiding his fingers. Doing all that he could to prevent me from completing my task. I learned today, that patience is key. I sat and held his hand and waited.
And waited.
And waited. 

I talked to him as I continued to make my way to a finger. I would single one out, pose it and wait. More than once, I had to start this process over. I eventually won the battle and left dad trimmed and both of us, quite content.

refection

Upon relection, 2015 was a difficult year.
This is why I am grateful…

In January, we laid my mother in law to rest.

• Her two sons were at her bedside and gave her a PRIESTHOOD BLESSING.
• We were able to talk to our missionary on the phone upon per passing.
• Her services were simple yet beautiful.
• Her enitre family came together to celebrate her life and the reunion with her husband.
  (This is what we believe.)
• We gained a deeper love for family. Immediate and extended.

My father’s Alzheimers progressed rapidly.

• My brother, my husband and I all stepped forward to assist my mother.
• We grew closer to each other and to our mother – through CHARITY & SERVICE.
• I was able to spend some one on one time with dad. We listened to music and took selfies.

Dear friends and neighbors faced difficult times

• Neighbors came together to express love and lend support.
• I became even more aware of the abundance of love and strength exhibited by others.
• I received a confirmation of HOPE and gained a greater testimony of the power and comfort hope brings.

Both of my daughters were in separate automobile accidents.

• While severe damage to the cars occurred, both of them walked away unhurt. 
• We were down one car while repairs were being made, giving us the opportunity to sacrifice and serve each other. 

We made the difficult decision to place my father in a Memory Care Center.

• We took a leap of faith. Relying on the Lord to make sure that the needs of both Mom and Dad will be met.
• We found the perfect home. Full of love, charity, concern, and most importantly… the SPIRIT.
• Dad is now in a place where he can receive the full-time care and attention that his progressing Alzheimers requires.
• Mom has received a renewal… both physically and spiritually.
• We continue to exercise faith that the Lord is with us and will take care of us.
  We have faith that everything will work out according to His plan.

There were many other “little” things throughout the year. Pain. Sorrow. Fear, Worry.
I am grateful for every bit of it.
I am grateful for the strength it gave me.
I am grateful for the blessings it brought me.
I am grateful that, while life should have seemed hard and difficult, it became… wonderful!

the perfect tribute

It has been over 9 month’s now since my mother-in-law passed away.
(Where has the time gone!)

There were so many decisions being made on her behalf during that time.
At least one of her three children were at her side the majority of the time she was hospitalized.
She was seldom alone.

The three of them, together, carefully selected the perfect casket and the most beautiful flowers.
Each decision was made with her in mind.
Asking themselves…. what would she like?
Telling themselves… that is perfect for her.

When discussing the head marker…
her youngest son spoke up and suggested the placement of something music related along with the dates.
There was absolute agreement. It was the perfect idea. The perfect tribute.

It took some doing… but finally… nine months later… it happened.

There is no doubt she is singing with the angels!

the plan of happiness

The events that transpired between December 21st and January 10th were difficult.
It was a roller coaster ride of fighting for life and recovery and fighting for peace and reunions.
Consuelo was torn between two worlds.
I truly believe that when she called the names of loved ones
she did not do so out of confusion or delirium.
She was with those people.
They were with her.
Comforting her, as we were.
As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,
I know that there is life after death.
I know that we lived with God before we were sent here to earth.
I know that he has a plan for all of His children.
I know that our life here on earth, while not always easy, has a purpose.
We gain a mortal body that is tested and tried.
We feel pain and sorrow.
We are tempted and we sin, because we are not perfect.
Because we are not perfect, God sent His only begotten Son.
Through Him, we can become perfect, by repenting, by accepting His atonement.
It is also through His atonement, that we can receive strength as we face our trials.
Pain. Sorrow. Grief.
If we follow Gods plan.
If we keep His commandments and follow the example of His perfect Son,
even, Jesus Christ, we can be happy.
The knowledge that we have of this great plan of happiness
has given us all that we needed during those three weeks.
We knew, that no matter what the end result was,
Consuelo would be with loved ones.
Whether here on earth, or on the other side.

There is life after death.
There is a sealing power that links our family together FOREVER!
And that makes me happy.

{Your can learn more HERE}

the call

[part one]

December 21, 2014 was like any other Sunday. We attended church, ate dinner as a family, and spent the evening relaxing. We were winding down for the night when the phone rang. The caller ID indicated that it was the Sister Missionaries. Evan answered the phone, not realizing that this phone call would change our lives.

The Sister on the phone confirmed that it was Evan, the son of Consuelo Rowley. She then informed him that his mother had taken a fall and that the EMT's were on their way. We quickly changed back into clothes and went over to her apartment. She was still on the ground in the lobby when we arrived. Several strong arms easily lifted her into a chair, where questions were asked and answered. It was estimated that she laid there for 15-20 minutes, calling for help, before she was found. She was alert and not in pain. Her vitals were good. The EMT's asked her if she could stand and she tried, with their assistance. Then, there was pain. They quickly sat her down and asked if she would like to go to the hospital. With our encouragement, she agreed it was best. She was skillfully placed on a gurney and Evan and I ran to her apartment to grab her wallet and lock the door.

We arrived at the hospital just as she was being wheeled in, so we followed her in. Room 8. The same room she was taken to when she broke her shoulder. Evan called our friend, Doug Martin, who rushed over to assist in giving her a blessing. Calls to Denise and Neale were held off briefly while we gathered information from the doctor. He wanted to X-ray her hip so we made those calls while she was in radiology. The results were not good. She fractured her hip. Immediate surgery was required. Because of her age, failure to do so would lead to phenomena and most likely, death. An Orthopedic Surgeon was called in. Neale arrived just in time to see her before she went to the operating room. He left shortly after and Evan and I escorted her to pre-op where we spoke with the anesthesiologist. It would be an easy, routine surgery, requiring only an hour if all went well. Shortly after midnight we found ourselves in the waiting room.

becoming the best

It has been said by most that their mom is the best ever.
Those words are no exception to my daughters.
I accept their statements in great humility
not because I am the best, but because I have been influenced by the best.

My mother is the first influence I ever had.
She is the most selfless woman I know.
Always looking outward.

My two daughters… so very different from each other
but equally as important to me.
They have taught me more than I ever would have learned on my own.

Denise became my fist sister when I married her brother.
She was the first Aunt to my daughters
and is full of energy and love.

Tamra, married my brother
and was the first to make me an Aunt.
She has a passion for learning and is one of the smartest people I know.

Emily, my third sister by marriage.
She has taken on the role of motherhood and has not looked back.
She is courageous and nurturing.

Many friends and neighbors… the mothers and the childless.
All of them honoring womanhood with their actions,
caring for their families and for each other.

I have no doubt that all of these women will also claim
that their greatness comes from influences as well.
But, isn’t that something we as women do so very well…
helping others become their best.

she sounds great

We got the phone call this morning.
Sister Rowley called me and we conferenced in dad.
The three of us spoke for 25 minutes.

It was great to HEAR her voice.
To LISTEN to her joys and frustrations.
To reassure her.
To TELL her we love her and that we are so very proud of her!

This post comes with a warning

If you can't stand the sight of blood
Stop now, and go no further.

For quite some time now, I have been enduring chromic tendonitis in my elbow.
A cortisone shot helped for a while, but the pain came back.
The options were down to two: surgery or a less evasive procedure
known as a platelet rich plasma (PRP) injection.
I opted for the latter.

I was warned of the pain and prepared myself effectively.
It was actually not as bad as I prepared for… I clenched my teeth, but shed no tears.
I little dizziness after I sat up required a moment of rest before leaving the doctors office.

It was fascinating to learn about this procedure…. the power of the body,
the healing nature of blood.
It started with the drawing of 1 ounce of blood.

then the blood is then placed into a centrifuge where separation occurs.
After the separation,  the plasma and red blood cells are discarded and
the white blood cells, platelets and a hint of red blood cells are extracted and prepared for the injection.

The most tender part of the tendon is located and the injection is made.
Scar tissue is created and healing is forced.
The doctor then reminded me that I  have several days of extreme pain….
described as a bruised broken arm.

Naturally, I took time off work, made myself a sling,
and put my husband to work… fixing dinner, putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, putting in my earrings,
getting me ice cream (a natural pain reliever).

I am lucky on so many levels…
talented doctors, creative medical procedures, and a loving, caring husband!

Kinda reminds me of this...

2’s and 3’s

Three times in two weeks =  the number of times I have listened to my missionary speak in church.
Two of those three times was just this morning.
My two daughters have been home together this weekend as we
prepare to take Kylee to the MTC in three days.
In just two days, she will be set apart as a missionary through Priesthood Authority.
Soon, it will be just the two of us…Evan and I.
Well, three, if you count the dog!
My heart is full of gratitude for my two daughters.
Together, with my loving husband, I have the three best friends I will ever need.
Before we know it, the four of us will be in three different states
but in less than two years we will all be reunited.
I think the two of us can handle that!
Well, three, if you count the dog!

Emptying the nest

First, Taylor leaves for another semester at BYU-Idaho.
Then Kylee leaves for the MTC.
By the end of the month, Evan and I will be (temporarily) empty nesters.

I am not sure what that means for us.
I do know that it is bitter sweet.

I knew I loved Evan before we were married.
I loved him even more on our wedding day.
Each day after, even more.
We loved our time together, and we spent it well.

Then children came.
I loved him even more.

We raised our daughters together.
We were lucky with them.
They never gave us much trouble.
They were as patient with us as we were with them.

All four of us, built our strong family together.
We love spending time with each other.
We love being at home together.
We love laughing and playing together.

Now, one by one, our daughters are leaving us.
Evan and I get to practice being just the two of us again.
That is, until they come home.
And, we will always welcome that!

Best Plans

The original plan was to coordinate an event.
A hall reserving,
food catering
invitation sending
kind of event.
It was decided upon years in advance.

Through the course of these years
my father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.
His memory diminished quickly.
First it was events, then friends
and now, occasionally, family.

While an occasional “good” day occurred,
it was evident that such an event would
be a great source of frustration for him
as well as my mother.

An evening of reminding my father of who
he was visiting with and constantly explaining
to guests the current status of his condition
was not an evening anyone would look forward to.

So, the plans changed.
Instead of a grand party,
we celebrated my parents golden anniversary in,
what turned out to be, the perfect way.
A small intimate dinner for 8.

We booked reservations at The Roof,
a restaurant stilling on the top floor of
the Joseph Smith Memorial Building with
a perfect view the the Salt Lake Temple,
the place they were married 50 years ago.

The cherry on top…
a little unknown fact, later revealed
they had their wedding breakfast in that
very same building when it was the Hotel Utah.

(Thanks again to Kylee for documenting the event so well!)

LOVING email!

Kylee finally has internet and we received her first email. She is tired and her thoughts are jumbled, but she is safe and enjoying her experience so far. Here are a few excerpts...

the traveling has been loooonnnggg, three days worth of it. i have no sense of time here and forget what day it is constantly. we head to chamba today (6 hour jeep ride)

we flew into qatar … and got there around 3AM (india time) and then we waited for about an hour for our bus to show up. we then traveled 12-14 hours on a bus. it was nice, had AC and we all had our own rows. i had taken dramamine and was doing well. there was a point later on the bus ride that i got sick, real sick. throwing up and everything. thank goodness for those airplane barf bags (saved me entirely). i didn't necessarily feel nauseous but i could not stop throwing up.

my first indian meal was sort of awful. i hated it. it was like this bread thing filled with potatoes and onions that was meant to be dipped in either those nasty curd stuff or some pickle spice thing. i seriously had to force myself to eat it and i definitely ate less than half. that first meal had me seriously worried about the food i would be eating for the next two weeks (but things have been better since, not my favorite but i do eat). the nam is the best - crisp bread (we always get garlic).

the weather & smells have been less shocking than i anticipated. not as hot and not as smelly. despite the poverty, india is GORGEOUS. the himalayas are unreal. i have taken over 300 pictures and we are only on what, day four? five? see i have no concept of time. i think going to chamba is where the shock will hit because the places we have stayed so far are so nice. our first hotel was good (minus the mouse we discovered in our room) but the one we are at now..... soooo nice. i definitely did not expect such nice places to stay while here.

i miss you guys. i especially missed mom when i was sick on the bus. sure am grateful for all you guys do… i have been near tears and cried to myself many times already. when we first arrived and were taking our early morning bus ride was when it first hit me. we are so blessed and i take so much of it for granted. the people here are so beautiful (inside & out). they find happiness in family, friends & work, not material things or money. i really feel so blessed to be here right now, to be experiencing these feelings (totally crying again as i write this).

All three of us at home were quite the site as we were reading her email. We were all in tears too.
I am so grateful, first of all for her safe arrival. Secondly, for this life changing experience. I am looking forward to meeting the changed person that will come home in a couple of weeks.

THANK YOU to everyone who has helped make this possible for Kylee. So many of you have donated time, money, laptops, and most importantly… encouragement, love and support. We are blessed to know so many wonderful people!

Finally…

Two years later, we finally made it back to Lake Powell. (A crazy year, coupled with bad timing, caused us  to cancel all of last years plans.)  We hit the road Sunday afternoon and enjoyed a leisurely drive, taking in the beauty along the way…



As usual, we camped at the Super 8 in Page… Kylee and friends managed to find a friend. Without delay, I was summoned to remove him from the premises.

Setting aside unwanted guests, we hiked, relaxed, read, napped, swam, played, and laughed for three full days…

Father’s day

Happy father’s day to

• the man that married me
• the man that stayed married to me in spite of my faults
• the man that made mother’s day possible
• the man that is adored by my daughters
• the man that makes my weaknesses stronger
• the man that is my perfect match
• the love of my life!

I-witness

There is nothing more tender or wonderful as witnessing a distraught child snuggling with their pet for comfort.

Lucky me.

Yesterday, Saint Patrick’s Day, was my brother’s birthday.
In fact, he is my only sibling.

We were “normal” siblings… we DID NOT get along.
We fought constantly.
Our parents even staged a fake fight between them
in an attempt to illustrate how awful our fighting was.
Their point was well taken…
for a minute.

Things changed after I moved out.
Relationships that were taken for granted, we missed.
Reassurances that someone had my back when it matter most were absent.
The realization of how important my brother was to me was immense.

He is now, one of a few most important men in my life.
He is one of my best friends.
He has blessed me with a sister and a handful of nieces and nephews
and I love all of them beyond measure.

I cherish being a witness to the love he has for uncle-hood.
My daughters also have a deep love for him.
He truly is a great blessing to all of us.

My dear brother…
I hope you had a fabulous birthday.
I am so lucky to have you.

Sometimes…

…when your nieces and nephews are daring their father (your brother)
to eat a dog treat, you try to beat him to the punch.

The result, a doggy treat for two.
He wouldn't let his sister out-do him.
(Not that I ever could… he is pretty GREAT!)