Cabin Fever

I will try to wrap my swirl of thoughts into one unified blog post.

-Losing my dad wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. One minute he was here and the next he was gone. Every now and then I catch myself thinking I ought to see if Dad wants to... or Dad would like...or you should tell Grandpa about...

-My mom (The Rock) told me yesterday that it's hard for her to believe he's gone. "It feels like he's out on the farm somewhere, working." My thoughts exactly. I think if he's allowed to be on the farm, that's where he is. It was everything to him. And I think that's why in the early hours of his passing, all four of his kids, independently, had the urge to take a walk around the farm. It's like he's still there somewhere.

-His funeral was awesome. Yes, I said awesome. Because that's what it was.

-Dos's book comes out next week. Ah! Can't wait! It's getting so many amazing reviews.

-Every person in my house was sick this week. And I'm not talking about the sniffles. Or a nice heachache. Strep, croup, and some nasty virus running amuck. Husband actually asked me to shoot him yesterday. I don't think he was kidding.

-When you're sick Whoopie pies, brownies, spaghettio's, hot chocolate and raspberry lemonade are a must.

-I used my proofreading program this morning to run a final check on Becoming Bayley before sending it off to the editor. Apparently I start too many sentences with And, But and Or. I also use the word nice, and actually way too much.

-I haven't showered in two days. But I have brushed my teeth.

-My house looks like a tornado ran right through the middle of it.

-My cousin, J, called yesterday. He's so awesome. I wish he lived closer.

-Retin-A is a miracle zit gel. Seriously. I will never go back to the grocery store stuff. Why did I wait so long to get a prescription? Burn, baby, burn.

-When someone dies, you should take them food. Everyone's insides will feel happy and stuff.

-I love my mom. I worry about my mom. I also love my brothers, my kids, my husband, my cousins and my in-laws, very much. Death makes you reflect on things like that.

-The school board here is actually thinking of closing my kids elementary school. Idiots. It's the Best. School. Ever. 

-The Best. School. Ever. gave all four of my kids a blanket when they found out their grandpa died. Yeah. I stand by my previous statement.

-I've run the dishwasher at least ten times in the last four days.

-Hugo is a really boring movie.

I have to get up now, and shower, and clean the house, and plant all the flowers in the flower bed. I can't take it in this house any longer.

What's up with you? 

Second chances

A lot of thoughts have been swirling in my heard lately. As most of you know, my dad isn't doing well. I've been coming down to the farm as often as I can. And as I lay here, the watchguard of the night, listening to him cry out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I debated about whether to do this, as it is a very personal thing--to lose someone you love dearly. Not to be confused with losing someone you admire, or sort of love. It's very different. This will be the first time I've had to be separated from someone so entwined in my life. I've never been more thankful than I am this Easter weekend, that 2012 years ago, the Savior atoned for out sins, died and was resurrected again. Because of Him, when my dad goes, this really will be just a separation. I know that.

He slept the entire day yesterday. And when I say that, I mean the entire day. We sat him down in his lazyboy after he'd had his breakfast consisting of one mug of sugar free hot chocolate and we did not move him again until nine o'clock last night. I'm sure he remembers nothing in between. There were times when he'd open his eyes for about ten seconds, and for maybe two of those seconds he might make eye contact. It took three of us to get him to the bathroom and then into bed.

I was here last weekend. Up until that point I thought I was dealing with this pretty well. I've known, as everyone does, that eventually I'd have to face losing a parent, and I thought I'd reconciled myself to what that meant. But I don't think this is something you can possibly comprehend until you're in that moment, nor do I think everyone's experience is the same.

Saturday night, while all the guys were off at priesthood session, it was time for Mom to put Dad to bed. He was so exhausted it took all his effort to baby-step it to the bedroom, with me supporting him one side and Mom on the other. When he sat down on that bed, I'd never seen him so beat and plain uncomfortable. I felt so bad for him, i crawled up in the bed beside him and held his shivering hand. He looked at me with these eyes I'd never seen before. Eyes that said, I'm still here, but I'm already gone. And I cried like a baby.

"Don't cry," he said as tears welled in his own eyes.

I told him he didn't need to cry just because I was. Mom came in and asked me if I wanted to sleep there all night. Dad told me I was welcome.

I wiped my tears and said, "No, I just wanted to love on him for a bit."

"Love me for as long as you want," he said, his hand gripping mine tightly.

"I'll love you forever," I said.

I will. I'll love you forever, Dad. And I'm so thankful I'll have the chance.