Cold, Hard, Ugly Truth

So here it is, the cold, hard, ugly truth; the real reason I haven't felt like keeping up on my blog is I am afraid of being vulnerable. Somewhere along the way I distorted things in my head and began to feel like I could only write when I was feeling strong or when I had answers or insights that might help others. I had to be inspiring and I wasn't feeling inspired. The truth is I haven't felt strong in a very long time. I think I am more like my mom than I even realized. She was notorious for responding with, "I'm okay" when she really wasn't. In fact, if she said those words we knew she really wasn't. The truth is I'm not always okay and that is okay. The truth is I don't have all the answers or even a handful of them. The truth is my faith is being tested. The truth is I have good days and bad days. The truth is I still have breakdowns once in a while.

Today we sold my mom's house. I went to the title company and picked up a pen and signed my name in all the right places. Except, they weren't really the right places because I shouldn't have had to sign my name at all. Those documents shouldn't have even existed. A sign should never have been stuck in her yard. She should never have gotten sick. She should still be alive! I have had so many conflicting feelings as I process all of the changes that have taken place. I am still having trouble accepting her death. This is grief. These are the emotions people deal with after the funeral is over and everyone has gone home. Life goes on and we're expected to move on with it. I'm trying. Some days it's literally putting one foot in front of the other.

As quickly as negative thoughts come, they are replaced with thoughts of gratitude. "Thank you God for letting me care for her! Thank you God for letting her be my mother! Thank you God for her life and the impact it has had on mine." In the end the gratitude always wins out. I would go through all of the pain a thousand times over for the opportunity to serve her again! For me, love and gratitude will always conquer hate and pain. 

That being said, in the months following her death I have started 17 different blog posts attempting to express my feelings only to stop a few sentences in. Grief is complicated and I've been ashamed that I don't have it all together. "Where is my faith?", "Do I or do I not believe I'll see her again?", "How could God do this to our family?" "I have been doing all the right things, I am a good person and this is how God repays me?", "Haven't we suffered enough?", "Forget about me, how could God do this to my kids?" Even now knowing that these thoughts are a normal part of grief I still feel guilty for having thought them. I have screamed and cursed God's name more times than I care to admit as I wept in a blind rage that my mom, my best friend in the entire world was taken from me too soon. Then came the shame... I KNOW the truth! I have seen miracles firsthand in my life. I CANNOT deny God's existence nor His love for me and yet when my mom passed away I wondered why He didn't care about me. I wondered where He was when I needed Him. After all we had already lost this didn't feel like love. If He was real and could really see me than why did I continue to hurt so much? Why couldn't He throw me a bone and give me a break? I found myself feeling certain I could not write about these thoughts because they were too dark, too moody and who would they help? No, I would have to process the feelings of anger and abandonment silently and privately.

So why am I writing about those feelings now? I'm still not on the other side of this trial. I guess the answer is the same reason I started this blog in the very first place. I want to help someone, even if it's just one person. Hiding my true feelings and brushing them under the rug so that I appear like I'm doing okay doesn't help anybody. Life isn't a perfect package and grief isn't something we can orchestrate. I am making gains with my happiness. I feel myself slowly healing and progressing towards the happiness I know will be mine. Despite the sadness, I have never stopped laughing even when my heart feels heaviest. Most people around me probably had no idea how much I was hurting. I wasn't faking laughter or forcing happiness it just wasn't lasting joy. The moment I was alone with my thoughts I would feel depressed again. I know based on previous experience with losing my dad that one day I'll find that my heart feels light again and laughter fills my soul, not just the moment I'm in. I think I'm over the darkest part of it now, for the first time in a while I feel hope. I want to share that hope with others. I want those that are grieving and possibly thinking some of the same thoughts that I have felt so ashamed of to know that they are not alone! God hasn't abandoned us no matter how much it feels that way (more to come on this later). Today is an important step for me because I'm choosing to be open again, I'm choosing to be vulnerable. Today I choose to be honest and admit I still have fears and doubts. Ironically admitting those fears and doubts is precisely what makes me grow stronger and feel braver. Remembering that I have a Savior who atoned for my pain, my fear, and my shame is the first step to becoming fearless!

Back to the Beginning

Tonight the rain is pouring outside my window while I'm tucked safely inside my cozy, little basement apartment. Tonight that same rain seems to be reflecting the feelings of my heart. The last few days my heart has been constantly weeping for the loss of my mom. I get up, get the kids to school, run my errands and do my daily tasks, pick up my kids and I smile and play with them, I tuck them in bed and kiss their sweet cheeks trying to soak in every ounce of their goodness and in return give them all of the love I have, and then the tears my heart has been silently crying all day are finally free to slide down my cheeks. Tonight it is time to write again. Tonight I am going to take it back to the beginning.... 

The cooler temperatures of the fall seem to be bringing back vivid memories to my mind. It was this time last year that I moved to Utah. I didn't know then that the months of September and October would be my last two months spent with my mom before she would become dependent on me. We spent those two months in the same manner that we usually spent time together. We were oblivious to the poison inside her body that would soon take her life. Ignorance was bliss.

There is one particular night in September that sticks out to me. Remember the lice my daughter had had the previous spring? Turns out she actually had SUPER lice! Apparently super lice cannot be killed with over-the-counter lice treatments. On this September evening I discovered that not only did she have it, but so did all of my boys! I was distraught. I could not do lice anymore. My mom and I took the boys out back and completely shaved off all their hair. We worked late into the night bagging up all of the pillows, washing the linens, vacuuming, and combing through hair. We decided we better check our own hair as well. My mom and I took turns combing through each other's hair using a fine tooth comb and a magnifying glass (keep in mind we both have very thick heads of hair). Any of you who have dealt with lice before will know what a painstakingly slow process it is to thoroughly check for lice. Seeing as it was now our third go around with lice in six months time (thank you super lice) my mom and I decided to also chemically treat our hair despite not seeing any sign of lice. We were determined to be done once and for all with all things lice! 2 a.m. rolls around and we are both sitting at the kitchen table with this gross chemical treatment in our hair. Out of nowhere I started to sob uncontrollably. Shocked my mom said, "Buggins, what's wrong?" (side note: we're a nickname family) I couldn't get the words to make sense I was crying so hard. I was trying to say, "I'm so tired of hard." It sounded so ridiculous and I felt like a child crying like that that I then began to laugh but I was also still crying. I was legitimately hard core crying and full on laughing at the same time. I have never experienced anything like it prior to that experience or in the days following. I felt like a full on lunatic. "I think you're having a nervous breakdown" was my mom's response through her own laughter. At two in the morning we were sitting at the kitchen table with gunk in our hair, simultaneously laughing and crying like babies who can't decide if they should laugh or cry, except that we were full grown adults. That is one thing I loved best about my mom, she was always a person I didn't have to be anything but me with. I could act like a crazy woman having a premature midlife crisis at 28 and she didn't care. She unconditionally embraced my crazy and always brought hers to the party. Somehow that terrible night has become a treasured and cherished memory. A memory of acceptance and love from a mother to a daughter. There are times I'd give anything to be back in that hard, uncomfortable, kitchen chair with smelly chemicals in my hair. 

The beginning of October I started taking a CNA course. Classes were from 9-2, Monday-Friday all month long. During this time my oldest two kids were in school but my youngest two were not. My mom had agreed to watch my little ones for the month. That month was a priceless treasure for my then four year old. He got so much more attention from grandma that he didn't normally get when the bigger kids were around. They spent many of those beautiful fall days going for walks. The baby has more energy than most people know what to do with and as the month of October progressed, my mom began to experience extreme fatigue. A lingering cough she had had since the spring began to worsen. When she was tired of chasing my youngest around she would buckle him in the stroller where he would be confined and my four year old would walk along beside her. Despite her exhaustion it was usually easier for her to manage a walk than chase the two year old around at home. She never let me know just how bad she was feeling but despite her best efforts to hide it I knew something was wrong. I felt guilty leaving her with my kids but she insisted and at that point there was only a couple more weeks left, therefore, daily walks with my boys became the norm. 

It was on these walks that my four year old formed a bond with her that is quite remarkable. Because of all of the changes from the divorce and the high demands placed on me, he was struggling a bit to be seen. The two of them would walk and talk. She would point out things about nature to him and before long he suggested they start saying prayers on their walks. This tickled her. He would say, "Grandma, Grandma stop we need to say another prayer". She would patiently stop and listen to him pray for his sister and then they'd walk a little further before he would ask her to stop again to pray for someone else. This went on and on the whole walk until he had stopped and said a prayer for every member of our family. My mom cherished these walks and I believe they were a small step in preparing her for what was to come. I know they were a huge step in healing my little boy's heart. 

One day I came home a bit early and discovered the house empty and the stroller gone. Knowing they must be on one of their walks I walked out front to wait for them. Sure enough there they were walking towards me on the other side of the street. My mom was pushing the baby, my four year old was walking eagerly beside her, and they were looking at each other discussing something with smiles on their faces. The sun shone perfectly behind them so that their silhouette's were crisply outlined against the sky. A gentle breeze scattered leaves along the road and ruffled my hair when I distinctly heard, "remember this moment" whispered in my mind. Time stood still for just a fleeting moment. I willed myself to soak it all in, to memorize the way they looked, the way I felt, the sound of their distant laughter, every single bit of it I tried to commit to memory. Tears sprang to my eyes and in that moment I knew....

That was the last walk she ever took with my boys. From that day on, deep in my soul I knew that the "lingering cough" would eventually take her life. The next time I came home from school she showed me her pillowcase. It was speckled with blood from coughing in the night. That was the beginning of the end of her mortal life. 

Not a day goes by that I don't miss her presence.

 Even though I love the changing leaves and crisp air, this fall has been painful for me because this year the changing leaves and crisp air acts like a trigger on a gun where the ammo is a bunch of bittersweet memories. Memories that I know I have to share, I have to let out somehow because if I keep them in I'll drown in them. Some of them are too painful to keep locked away, stuffed inside. Some of them are too beautiful to keep to myself. Grief is funny like that; pain and beauty intertwine until sometimes you don't know where the beauty stops and the pain begins. So like the trees in autumn I'm shedding my memories like falling leaves. Some of the leaves are ugly, dead, and brown, rotting on the ground. However, most of the leaves from my tree are vibrant oranges, reds, and golds; you see most of my memories are more beautiful than painful. To know my mom, to care for my mom, to love my mom and be loved by her in return, that is more beautiful than any autumn leaf! How fortunate that life is eternal and that like the tree that loses it's leaves every fall, new memories will come forth like fresh leaves growing in the spring!

                                                Treating her hair for lice. lol

                                              Grandma time with the little boys

                               

The Hospital

Yesterday afternoon I went back to the hospital I spent so much time at with my mom. Towards the end of her life she had a procedure done where they inserted a catheter into her left lung so we could drain the fluid more frequently at home which is called a thoracentesis. In order to do a thoracentesis you have to use a special lung drainage kit that is packaged so that each kit is completely sterile. The drainage bottles and kits are quite expensive. We had about ten of them left when she passed away and the company that manufactures them wouldn't refund them. I decided to take them to the hospital to donate them for other patients who couldn't afford them. I had been putting it off for days, knowing that returning to the hospital was going to be difficult for me emotionally.

As I pulled up to the hospital I turned down the music in my car and took some deep breaths. "It's okay, you're okay right now just get out of the car and go inside. You'll be fine."

 I forced myself to open the car door and cautiously got out as if I was expecting the grief to hit me with sudden force."Okay, so far so good." 

I opened the back of the mini van, grabbed the big box, and made my way towards the Cancer Center with the wind whipping my hair. As I approached the door I noticed a sweet looking older woman and we made small chat and then exchanged smiles when we parted from the elevator on the 2nd floor. "This is not bad. I can do this. No biggie."

 I made my way to the familiar oncologist's office hoping to leave the kits with the P.A. that had taken a particular interest in my mom and been so kind to us. I noticed a few nurses that I recognized and felt a small twinge of pain. The receptionist smiled in recognition when she saw me. It was a pity smile. I explained to her that I was hoping to see Heather and donate the drainage kits.

 "I'm sorry Heather is with a patient right now. I suggest you take the kits directly to the Heart and Lung Center. I'll tell her you said hello." 

I knew the Heart and Lung Center was where I logically should have gone in the first place but I wanted to thank the P.A. for her sweet card and face my fear of the Cancer Center. It felt like it was some right of passage in my grief process. 

Over the past nine months I had gotten to know the entire hospital fairly well so I took a short cut to the Heart and Lung Center. Again I made my way through the wind and as I passed people coming and going I wondered if they were curious what was in the box I was carrying. They couldn't possibly know how difficult carrying that box was or that every time I looked at one of the kits inside it my mind flashed to images of myself trying to calm and console my mom as I drained the fluid from her lung. They couldn't possibly know that the first time I saw blood in the fluid from her lung I silently panicked and had a meltdown when the home health nurse was not concerned. She knew what I was trying to deny. My mom was dying and she was dying soon; there was nothing to be done about the blood.

 I forced those memories and images from my mind and turned on the "numb switch". I decended the stairs into the Heart and Lung Center and approached the front desk. In one breath I spat out the following like a rehearsed line,  "my mom passed away and we had all of these lung drainage kits they're brand new and still completely sealed I know how expensive they are and thought some of your patients might be able to use them." The two receptionists just looked at me trying to process what I had just said then their faces softened and with great compassion one of them asked, "What was your mom's name?" Ouch! In my mind I was thinking, "her name IS Kathleen Ewell, not was". I knew she meant well, most people do, so I blew it off and told them her name. They exchanged a quick glance with each other and then looked back at me with tears in their eyes. "Yes, we remember her. We're so very sorry for your loss. Thank you for donating these kits. Somebody is going to be very grateful." I quietly responded, "It's what she would've wanted. She received some free samples from other patients as well. It's come full circle now." 

I don't remember saying bye to them, I hope I did. The next thing I remember I was practically running up the stairs trying to get out of there as fast as I could. "I shouldn't be here right now. This can't be real". When I got outside, memories of times spent with her in that very hospital came in a continuous stream. Her stroke, PET scans, CT scans, MRI's, when she was diagnosed, a class I took about chemotherapy, weekly appointments to check her INR, an endoscopy, radiation and chemotherapy treatments, a blood transfusion, and the final time she was admitted for severe confusion and hallucinations before they sent her home with home health, all came rushing back.

 I could see us sitting in the chemo room while she received an infusion of poison into her veins, my mom talking to everyone she sat by and wishing them luck. I could see myself rubbing her back, as we waited to be called back for her endoscopy. My mom was nauseous that day and curled up in a ball on the waiting room chairs. I could see my mom lying in her hospital bed telling us that she was forced to marry Osama Bin Ladin with terror in her eyes, fully convinced it was real. I could see my siblings and I eating together in the cafeteria discussing what should happen when she dies. I could see all of this and so much more as if I were out of my body, standing there watching it. 

My eyes began to fill with tears and depsite my best efforts to keep them in, they began to trickle down my cheeks. Finally I made it to my car, opened the door, sat down and promptly laid my forehead on the steering wheel and sobbed. I sat there in the hospital parking lot crying in my mini van for a few minutes before I felt her. 

Suddenly an indescribable peace came over me and I felt my mom's presence in the front passenger seat next to me. I didn't audibly hear her with my ears, nor did I see her with my physical eyes but I knew she was there and somehow she spoke these words to my heart, "It's okay baby, it's okay". Such a simple message but it was exactly the kind of thing she always said to comfort me in her physical body. Moms have a gift to calm our hearts without saying very much, at least mine does. She just lets me cry and allows me to feel how I feel, silently validating her unconditonal love for me. 

With that I sat up, dried my eyes, and turned the key in the ignition. Upon leaving the parking lot a contentment washed over me and the distinct thought came to me that I needed to share some more of my experiences caring for my mom on my blog. I don't know why. Perhaps, like with the experiences I shared about the abuse of my daughter and my divorce that followed, it is for me to heal more fully. Perhaps it can help someone, somewhere who has lost a loved one to cancer or is facing the ugly monster in the face right at this very moment. My hope is that they feel a little less alone and a little more understood. I don't fully understand the whole reason and maybe I never will. All I know is that the nine months I cared for my mom was life altering. It was simultaneously the hardest, most difficult thing I have ever done and the sweetest, most tender, and sacred thing I have ever experienced. It was nine months of my life that I look back on with no regrets. I learned all about a different, deeper kind of love. An eternal love that I could never have comprehended before. I thank you all in advance for allowing me to be vulnerable and share a very special piece of my heart; caring for my mom. 

Kathleen Abrams Ewell, A Believer

I'm not sure this post will make any sense. It is most likely going to be a jumbled mess of my thoughts and feelings. I have so many thoughts bouncing around in my head and I know I just need to get them out somehow. I don't know how to write about such tender things while it is still so fresh but feel it is important to do so. I have written quite a bit in my journal but feel the need to share some of these thoughts with others. My mom was one of my biggest supporters of this blog and I know she would want me to share some of these things if it might benefit someone. I still feel so amazed and humbled that what I have to say makes a difference in the lives of others. I feel so normal, so ordinary, but perhaps that is where my power is. I can help others because I'm normal and ordinary and I have been blessed with the courage to share. So with a little apprehension I am once again going to be vulnerable and share with y'all another piece of my heart. I'm going to share some of my grief with you. I'm going to share one of the most valuable things to me with you, my mama.

On July 13th at 3:01 a.m. my dad came to take my sweet mama home and end her mortal suffering. It was a beautiful and tender blessing to hold her hand and feel her heart beat its last few beats. The love that was in that room with my siblings and I surrounding her bed as she left this life is something that cannot ever be described by words we have here in this life. Her nine month battle with stage 4 lung cancer tested and tried her to her limits in every way. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically she fought EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Some would say the cancer won, I have even said she lost her battle but as I look back now I realize I was wrong. Despite extreme pain and moments of doubt and fear she never lost her faith. She never lost who she was as a mother, a sister, a cousin, a grandma, a daughter of God. Her love and faith remained strong the whole way through. I call that a victory! Those who know my mama know she has always had a fierce determination to rise up and be counted as a believer. And that she did!

A week ago we held her funeral and put her body to rest next to my dads. The last week or so has been surreal. None of this feels like it really happened. Occasionally a memory will rush back to me and with it comes emotion, shock. This is reality. With that reality comes the impression that I need to share who my mom was and is. I need to share my testimony that she lives, that death is not the end! I need to share experiences that I've had that have taught me that although awful, bad things happen sometimes to good people, God is real. I have had so many special, sacred experiences these last nine months while caring for my mom. I know I need to write about some of them but I'm still trying to process and decipher what to share. Some things are too special to my siblings and I to ever share publicly.

Despite the pain I feel at the loss of her physical presence I feel a deep, intense peace inside my heart. Nearly every day of my life I have talked to my mom. She was my confidant, my counselor, my best friend. We would talk about a variety of things ranging from things as mundane as what we did that day to our deepest pains and heartfelt desires. Losing her is odd because the person who always helped me the most with this kind of thing was her. I would call her and cry and vent and cry some more. She always validated my feelings and knew exactly what to say to motivate and empower me. In fact, it was she who gave me the words: stronger, braver, fearless as my mantra! I find myself now in a position where I am once again at a crossroads. My whole life was about caring for my mom these last nine months and of course my kids as well. Now I have to create a new life for my kids and I. I don't know exactly what that looks like and that can be terrifying but I have an idea and hope for the future. I don't regret the decision to drop everything and care for her in the least. Besides my decision to become a mother, choosing to care for her was the best thing I have ever done!!! I have now experienced a different, deeper kind of love than I ever thought possible. I am grateful to have experienced that kind of sacred, selfless, eternal love! Every pain I feel at her loss is matched with an equal amount of gratitude. Gratitude for that time. I never in my wildest dreams envisioned myself being an "orphan" before I was thirty but I don't feel that way. I feel so grateful for the parents I have, for the time I had with each of them before they were called home. I have been blessed to have had noble and loving parents. With that gratitude comes peace, I feel their love every day of my life. They are still here with me, in all that I do. I read my moms journal this week and I realized that she also lives on in me. She gave me the best qualities about her. Because of her example I have her strength, her ability to love, her sense of humor, and an unwavering dedication to family and Heavenly Father. I don't necessarily think I'm amazing but she was and through her constant example she has given me the ability to develop those same qualities. They are in me and because of her I will rise up and be counted as she lives on through me. So even though I want to call her and ask for her advice, "What do I do next?", I know what she would say. "you can do hard things", "gird up your loins and fresh courage take", "the gospel isn't for wimps", "put one foot in front of the other", "move forward with faith", "I believe in you and you will rise up to meet what life has handed you", "just do this day", and most importantly, "I love you, you can do this!". Sometimes the grief and fear is debilitating but then I think about her life and the things she overcame and the words of advice she would have for me and I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that although the road will be challenging and overwhelming at times, I will succeed!!! I will know true joy and happiness can be found even in the most difficult times. I choose light, I choose happy, I choose to believe, and I will rise!

Kathleen Abrams Ewell was a lot of things in this life: a daughter, a sister, an actress, a nurturer, a granddaughter, a cousin, a poetess, a teacher, a "ding-a-ling", a friend, a comedian, a devoted wife, a superb mother, and most importantly, she was a believer!

All That Matters

Many times I've sat down and attempted to write over the last couple of months and nothing seems to come out the way I want it to. My mom has fought long and hard to keep her cancer at bay and it has become evident the last couple of months that it's not a battle she is going to win. How do I accurately convey my life the last couple of months? How can I possibly describe the intensity of the love that I have felt? I can't. There are no words adequate enough to describe the ache I feel every time I see her wince with pain. There are no words that can describe the sorrow I feel when she looks at me with tears in her eyes because she doesn't know where she is. There are no words sufficient to explain how much it kills me to watch her suffer in so many ways and I can't take it away from her. It is the most heart wrenching thing I've ever experienced to watch her body slowly give up on her. To watch my vibrant, positive, active, strong mother become weak and helpless. So why do I do it? Why do I keep caring for her even though it's breaking my heart? Why did I decide to stay home and care for her full time when there is no paycheck? The answer is so simple; LOVE. It's all about love. Period. There are nights when I'm so emotionally and physically exhausted and the tears won't stop and I wish this wasn't real and there are nights when I'm scared to death of how much I'm going to miss her. Sometimes I think the pain is more than I can bear and then I remember that love is so much stronger than pain and fear. Love takes over and my personal concerns for myself don't seem to matter anymore. I look into her big blue eyes and I know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. She is worth it! Then I feel the sweet love of our Savior, Heavenly Father, and Heavenly Mother and I know I will never regret loving her this way. There is no pain that can equal the love I feel. I am so grateful for that sweet love that reinforces my faith in life after death. There are so many family members and dear friends waiting with joyous anticipation to embrace my faithful mother and envelop her with their love. What a sweet reunion she will have! After all she has done for me, surely the least I could do is help her through this last difficult chapter of her life and get her home.

In my last post I wrote to my mom that her kids would love her through this horrific plague that is cancer. I haven't been able to write since then because we have been too busy loving her through it. Mom, you're almost done. You've lived a good life. You've taught us well. You have loved us unconditionally. We love you more than any words could ever possibly convey. Our love for you is deeper than this mortal life. Our love for you is eternal!

                                                    Loving Her Through It:

 

                                                 

         

The whole purpose, the reason for it all is love. It all comes back to love. That's what matters. 

Love You Through It : a Mother's Day message about unconditional love.

With Mother's Day quickly approaching my thoughts have been turned towards my own mother. Often when I think about her, words feel inadequate to explain the mother she is. From the time I was little I remember nothing but love and perhaps that is the greatest lesson she ever taught me, to love unconditionally.

In 2004 my dad passed away very suddenly and as I was the youngest, that left just her and I at home. To say that was a hard year and a strain on our relationship would be an understatement. We each grieved differently as our relationships with him were very different. I was a teenager about to start my final year of high school and a whole new phase of life. She was a woman about to be an empty nester and now a widow, which meant she would be completely alone. Our fears were great and there were a few occasions when we took those fears out on each other leaving us both with hurt feelings. What came after the hurt feelings is an important life lesson I'll never forget. After giving me some time alone my mom would always knock on my door, sit on my bed and apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can. Parents aren't perfect but I love you so much. Can you please forgive me?"

If only she knew then how much those words would help me when I became a mother! She taught me that it's okay to not be a perfect parent. That it's okay to be real with your kids. That we respect those that are honest with us about their shortcomings. That there is nothing that can't be mended by sincere humility and unconditional love. That all we are ever expected to do, is our personal best.

Over the years my mom has been there for me as I have parented my own children and she has continued to comfort and gently nurture me through some of the most difficult moments of my life. I am her caregiver now but a year ago she was mine. It wasn't that long ago that my world was falling apart and she was helping me pick up the pieces. She worked tirelessly to keep my house clean and help care for my kids while I handled legal issues and worked through my grief. Many mornings she let me sleep in and mope in bed as I mourned the end of my marriage and the horrible abuse my daughter endured. She was patient with me as I slowly began to heal and get stronger. Quite simply, she loved me through it. Now it is my turn to allow her to grieve and mourn the loss of her health while I take care of business. I see it not as a burden but a privilege, an honor. Unconditional love is serving one another through the trials and heartbreaks in life. She taught me that.

Mom, if you get a chance to read this, you need to know how much your kids love you. It is okay to not be the strong one taking care of us anymore. You have taught us everything we need to know. We know to trust in God because of you and that turning to Him is ALWAYS the answer. We know how to love both purely and unconditionally because of your example. Spending time with you and caring for you is a privilege for us all. You have been and are a noble mother! Your faith and love have sustained us and will continue to do so because yours is a love that will last for eternity! Enjoy your time and try not to stress about the magnitude of this trial as you face your cancer. You have never let us fall or left us alone in our times of need and we will not let you either. We've got your back mama. Quite simply, we will love you through it!

This Mother's Day I challenge all of you to think about your own mother's and the ways they "loved you through it" and as a mother myself, I know that sometimes we have a tendency to look inward and reflect on our own mothering skills and sometimes we are tempted to compare ourselves to other mothers we know. To that I challenge you to 1. Remember the love you have for your child is the MOST important part of being a mother! Nothing else we will ever do will even touch the love they feel from us. The pinterest worthy birthday parties and perfectly packed sack lunches don't matter if they don't feel our love. Loving them deeply and making sure they feel that love IS ENOUGH! 2. Love yourself through it. There is no such thing as a perfect parent!!! Be patient and kind with yourself. Repeat after me as I repeat after my mom : "I'm doing the best I can." No more comparisons. I know my mom sounds pretty amazing from all of the things I've written about her but even she forgot my brother's 7th birthday. ;) He still loves her and is a functioning happy adult (mostly hehe).

Let's make this Mother's Day about love, unconditional love. Not comparisons, feelings of inadequacy, guilt, or even anger. This Mother's Day lets focus on the positive, the happy, and loving ourselves and each other through the trials and heartbreaks of life.

How?

One of my mom's biggest concerns about passing on is she wants to make sure I'm okay. She longs to see me happily married to a wonderful man who will be crazy about me and my kiddos. Since her diagnosis I have reassured her many times that I will be okay because I am okay right now. I honestly believe it. I know that no matter what, marriage or not, I will be okay. I will figure out my career and with Heavenly Father's help I will be enough for my kids. It will be very challenging at times but I will be okay.

A couple of days ago I had gone upstairs and read Jesus the Christ with my mom. Towards the end of the chapter we were on I started to feel kind of funny. I don't know how to explain it other than I just felt really tired and off, nothing major was wrong and there were no distinct symptoms but I just didn't feel well. It was a general feeling of ick. So for the first time in months I took a nap. When I awoke I felt really peaceful and the veil felt very thin, almost as if I had seen a loved one who had passed on in a dream. All throughout that day I couldn't shake the feeling that I had had contact with a loved one's spirit and that they were nearby. It was a very sweet and calming feeling.

Later that evening a thought popped in my head, "why now does the veil feel thin?" That thought left me feeling a little uneasy as I connected it to my mom and her condition. Soon thoughts were coming like, "is she going to pass really soon?" and "am I being prepared for her passing". I finally dozed off a little only to awaken around one a.m. with an anxious feeling. I needed to go check on my mom. It was late and I didn't want to scare her but I listened to that feeling and crept quietly up the back stairs. When I cracked open her door she looked at me. "Mom are you okay?" "I'm fine what's wrong? Come sit by me." I sat by her on the bed and told her what I'd been feeling that day. In regards to my nap she suggested I was being taught by heavenly spirits in my dreams. We talked for a while and it felt like old times before she got sick. Finally I said, "Mom I really do know I'm going to be okay when you pass but I need to hear you say it. I need to know that you know I'm going to be okay.  I am going to be okay, right?" She quietly and confidently replied, "You are going to be okay. I raised my kids to be tough stuff and you will be just fine. Happier times are coming." That night I did feel more comforted after talking to my mom and fell asleep pretty quickly once I went back to bed.

The next day I made plans to attend the temple. I really needed some extra comfort and wanted to go to the Jordan River Temple one last time before it closed for renovations. As I was sitting through a session the same questions from the day before kept popping back into my mind. "Was I being prepared for her passing and was it going to happen sooner than I was expecting?" In the Celestial room my thoughts were focused on the Plan of Salvation and mortality. I sat there contemplating for a long time when I finally began to cry and I looked up at the chandelier as if looking to the Heavens and asked, "How am I going to be okay? I know I will be but how?" And with that the tears flowed freely. I knew I would be okay one way or another because of what I've already been through but losing my mom..... that is an overwhelming thought despite being 100% confident of where she's going to be and that I will still feel her. The fear and sorrow I hadn't allowed myself to feel was finally felt in that Celestial room because I knew I would find comfort there. What I didn't expect was for Heavenly Father to answer my question right then and there. With tears still streaming down my cheeks a sweet, young blonde woman, whom I noticed had also been crying, came over and sat down next to me. "Would you like someone to talk to? I noticed you were also crying and thought maybe we could give each other some comfort." We sat there whispering our stories and our pain to each other and exchanged words of comfort and support. After we had changed our clothes we hugged and exchanged phone numbers. "I'm so glad I met you!" She said. "Me too, and don't hesitate to text me or call."

I got in the car and I felt so much better. I felt sorrow for this woman and her trials but I was no longer focused on mine. How marvelous to have made a friend in the temple of all places. Surely our paths were meant to cross. However, it wasn't until I was nearly home that I heard my answer. "That's how. You will be okay because I will send others to comfort you just like I always have. I will use my other children to comfort you and you will comfort them. Service. That's how."

What a powerful moment that was for me! Just by being kind we are serving. A simple smile or a few kind words can be the answer to someone's prayers and in turn we can find the answer to ours. These little acts of service can become our how to make it through a difficult trial. When we act on those promptings to serve we lift each other up and "how am I going to be okay?" turns into "who needs my help?"

Meant to Meet

Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? Like you were supposed to be somewhere at that exact time and moment?

When I moved to Utah I knew I had to get a plan going. Job, school, maybe both, something. I knew I wanted to be a nurse and so I did some research trying to figure out what the best way was for me to go about doing that as a single mom. I wanted to get a job at a hospital so they would help pay for some of my schooling. That led me to either phlebotomy or becoming a CNA. I then called around to all of the different programs I could find in the valley and compared them. After some careful consideration I opted for the CNA route. I knew I didn't want to waste time and I wanted to jump right in so I picked the course with the closest starting date and the best schedule for my family. After calling about 15 different course providers there was only one that seemed to fit the way I wanted. Eager to secure my spot I drove there the very next day and signed up for the course. 

There are a few reasons I think I was meant for that exact course. One being that in order to get to that location I would get to drive by my dad's cemetery everyday. It seems silly but little did I know that during that month I would have days where I needed to feel close to him. I would drive by every morning and shout out, "Morning dad. Help me out today if you can!" And then there were days when I was overcome with grief as I realized my mom was getting sicker and sicker. I would drive by on those days and say, "Please take care of mom today." Being able to "talk" to him gave me some added courage and comfort. 

The main reason I was supposed to take that particular course was the people I met. My instructor, Linda, was divinely placed in my life at that time. During lunch and on breaks we would often get to talking as a class and Linda had such a way about her that you just felt loved and cared about. More often than not our discussions would sway towards spiritual matters, none of us having the same religious backgrounds. As she talked about the elderly people we would care for and the things they would experience often tears would fill her eyes. This is what healthcare is all about, or should be. Caring, love, healing. She taught us all a valuable lesson. It didn't take long for us classmates to form a friendship and a bond with Linda. 

About half way through my course my mom came to me one day when I got home and showed me her pillow case which was sprinkled with blood. At this time my family knew she had been sick for too long but we didn't know what it was she was sick with. She had been previously diagnosed with pneumonia and given antibiotics and even steroids but she wasn't getting better. In my heart I knew there was something else wrong. I couldn't hide my concern and it didn't take Linda long to realize something was wrong. My class would sit and listen to me talk about it as we ate lunch or before class and it became a safe place for me to vent. 

We were doing clinics at a skilled nursing facility one Friday and my mom was supposed to be getting the results back from her doctor that day as to whether or not she had cancer. I had wanted to stay home and be with my mom when she received the news but she insisted I go and she would call me right away. So I went and I asked Linda for special permission to answer my phone should it ring. About halfway through the morning my phone started buzzing in my scrubs pocket. It just so happens I was answering call lights with Linda at that exact moment. "Can I take it?"  "Go". I stepped out into the hall waiting to hear my mom confirm what I already knew. Deep breathe, "Hey so?"  Two. Words.  "It's cancer." "Do you need me to come home? Are you okay?" I asked. My mom insisted that I stay. So I hung up just as Linda came out into the hall. She looked at me with eyes that knew and simply said, "you need to go". At that point the tears started flowing and wouldn't stop. SHOCK! SO MUCH SHOCK! "How is this real? Cancer. Cancer. Cancer." I kept repeating it in my mind. "My mom has cancer." Linda walked me down the stairs and out to my car. She grabbed my hands, looked me in the eyes, and wiped my snot from my face. (That's right. She wiped my gross, runny nosed, snot. That's compassion!) "Are you going to be okay driving home?" "Yes." She hugged me and told me to go be with my mom. "You should both get a priesthood blessing," And as she turned to walk away, "Oh and Celeste, seek comfort in the scriptures." 

I am so pleased to say that Linda and I are still friends. We just went to lunch last week in fact. Her sweet spirit and her passion for serving others have changed me. I know I was supposed to be with her when I found out about my mom's cancer. I know I was supposed to take that class to prepare me for all of the things I would have to do to care for my mom. I know I needed to drive by my dad often to feel some support from him. My classmates will be my life long friends. I know I was supposed to meet them. They were supposed to make me laugh and smile by saying stupid things like, "you look like John Travolta". They too had hard things they were experiencing and going through. We were an odd bunch. I don't think any of us would ever have become friends without that class with such diverse backgrounds. Linda was our glue. That class was more than a CNA certification program. It was where we were all supposed to be to find each other. 

A Thankful Heart

   This Thanksgiving my thoughts kept circling back to where I was a year ago on Thanksgiving. When my daughter told the school counselor about the abuse she said it started on Thanksgiving. She said grandma was staying in her room but for some reason she wasn't there that night. As I have thought back to last Thanksgiving it all makes perfect sense. Nic loved spending time with my family so if they were in town usually he would go back over to where they were at after we got the kids in bed for the night. Last year he told me I should go spend time with my family. I remember looking at him a little shocked thinking it was strange. After a few minutes I decided I would go and I figured maybe he was trying to be more generous and less selfish. I greatly appreciated the night off with my family. Little did I know that he wanted me to go so he could be alone with our daughter. It used to haunt me that Thanksgiving was where it all began. I remember feeling so guilty. How did I not know? Where was my mother's intuition? The truth is it all began a long time before that day. He must have been having thoughts for some time before he actually acted on them.
    So a year later here I am and honestly I couldn't be more grateful. I'm grateful first of all that my kids are safe. I'm grateful that Heavenly Father guided me to do all the right things so I could protect my babies. My daughter no longer has to endure sexual abuse and is on the path of healing. I'm grateful she has been so resilient and that the atonement has worked as a balm on her heart. I'm grateful she was prompted to tell some little girl that she didn't really know that her daddy was touching her. She was prompted to tell the right little girl, the little girl that would encourage her to tell the counselor at school. I'm grateful for that little girls parents for teaching her what to do. If I knew who they were I would give them a huge hug and thank them from the bottom of my heart. I'm thankful for all of the social workers, family, friends, lawyers, officers, teachers, and the judge that made it possible for me to get to this point. Because of their help and support my kids are safe. My daughter doesn't have to be afraid to go to sleep in her bed at night.
    I'm grateful for the generosity of others. This past year would have been absolutely crushing without the loving compassion of others. I cannot even begin to say how much every smile, kind thought, prayer, act of service and financial donation has meant to me. I make sure to tell my kids all the time how lucky we are and how important it is to help others. I feel like I'm being redundant but I am quite honestly blown away by the generous acts of others. I am inspired by these acts to be better and do better. To know that I have not only my personal family and friends but complete strangers rooting and pulling for my little family to succeed inspires me to keep going, to keep fighting, and I strive to be like those who have helped me. Their love and generosity has forever changed my heart.
    I'm grateful for my siblings. This last year my family has experienced many hardships. The shocking news about Nic's abuse devastated my family. Many of them have also experienced a lot of pain in their own personal lives. A brother and sister-in-law lost their teenage nephew in a tragic accident. As you can imagine it was heartbreaking. Then this fall my family received even more devastating news when we found out about my mom's cancer. As we have had such difficult times we've been together a lot more than usual. What I'm so grateful for is the time we've spent together even if it wasn't under the best circumstances. We have laughed and cried together many times this last year and I so appreciate that we have each other. None of us have to experience these things all alone. I'm so grateful for the intense loyalty and love I receive from my family. I know that my siblings have my back no matter what. Their lives are busy and they can't always be there but because of the quality time we have shared together I never doubt their love.
    I'm thankful for my mom's testimony. I'm thankful that she was always an example to me and that she taught me well. Many people have commended me for my spiritual strength. I truthfully cannot take any credit. I did not become this way all on my own. It was my mother who instilled in me from a very young age the importance of a relationship with Heavenly Father. Over the years she has taught me many spiritual life lessons. I'm grateful to her for everything she has done for me. I would not be where I am today without her. It is because of her that I know that no matter what life throws my way I will be okay as long as I cling tightly to the gospel. She has consistently been my rock. I am so grateful that we have had more time with her. Her stroke scared us all. We weren't sure we were going to get her back. Those were some dark days for our family. My heart is so full that we were able to spend thanksgiving with her and that she was able to enjoy it. I don't know what the cancer will do to her or when it will take her from this life but I'm so grateful for each and every moment I get with her and for the blessed opportunity I have now to extend some service to her. It is my turn to care for and nurture her. I am so happy to do it.
    I'm thankful for the four little humans that I get to call my own. My kids are the reason I go on when I feel like giving up. They're the reason I smile when I've had a bad day. They're the reason I get up and choose to fight each and every day of my life no matter how damn hard it is to fight. They drive me crazy sometimes but my love for them goes so deep that I can't stay crazy. I look at them and marvel at their perfectly healthy little bodies, their dimples, their little blonde heads. I am in awe of their unique and marvelous personalities. How are these wild, sweet, crazy, funny, smart, loving kids mine? My kids give me purpose. They breathe new life into me each and every time they give me a hug or flash a smile my way. Sometimes I suspect that they do far more for me than I do for them. I consider myself very blessed to be their mama.
     I could go on and on as I have MUCH to be grateful for. Perhaps the thing I am the most grateful for is a wise and loving Heavenly Father and the atoning sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ. In Heavenly Father's wisdom and love He has guided and protected me this past year through some really rough waters. The storm was coming no matter what. Nic did what he did and my mom's cancer couldn't have been prevented. Without Heavenly Father's help I would surely have drowned with the immensity of it all. I'm not sure exactly what I would have done but I'm positive I would've self destructed from the weight of it all without a close personal relationship with Heavenly Father. Never have I faced more pressure and strain on me than I have this past year. Heavenly Father completely took over and guided me when it came to Nic's criminal charges. I was literally told step by step what to do. Then in His infinite wisdom He sent me to Utah. I never wanted to move back to Utah and when I finally did I still didn't know the full purpose behind it. I was brought here to be with and care for my mom at this difficult time for her. I am so grateful I listened to Him when I didn't want to. I couldn't possibly know my mom had cancer at the time. When I have felt I was in way over my head, when I've felt like I absolutely couldn't rise up to what was being required of me, through deep prayer the atonement has time and time again come to my rescue. It has been my most powerful defense against the adversary. I get up on my own two feet and I continue to surprise myself with what I'm capable of as I let the atonement strengthen and sustain me. I would be no where without the atonement. I promise you I am not as strong as I seem in fact most of the time I feel quite the opposite, I am so incredibly weak and human, for this reason I am beyond thankful for my Heavenly Father and His Son.
    I have been taught many things. I have witnessed miracles. I have been the recipient of more generosity than I even knew existed. My heart is truly full.  As I have reflected on who I was and where I was a year ago I am so grateful to be who I am and where I am now. I have NO reason not to have a thankful heart always.

What Hurts.

   I mentioned in my last post that my mom has lung cancer. Since then she has had a stroke that was a side effect of the lung cancer. It's difficult for me to write about this because it's happening now and I don't want to say anything that might make it more difficult for my mom or cause her more worry or pain. That being said I have stuffed a lot of my feelings and haven't been coping very well. I haven't had much alone time or reflective time like I'm used to having so that I can process my feelings. I have tried to keep going full steam and take it all on. I wanted to be everything for my kids, my mom, my siblings, and still make time for myself. Turns out you can't be all things to all people. (like duh! ) So tonight I was putting clean sheets on my bed when I found myself suddenly sobbing uncontrollably. All of the feelings I had been stuffing and trying to run from, everything I was trying to be stronger than came out all at once. So here I am. I don't write these things publicly to seek sympathy or for anyone's pity. I am here writing because it hurts and somehow writing about my pain and sharing it makes me feel a little bit better on the off chance that somebody else will read it and identify with it. That they might feel a little less alone. I know my siblings understand, I have the BEST siblings, but when I write that's how I deal. That's my therapy. I write hard and fast and get it all out.  

  I have found myself in a position yet again where my life is in chaos through no fault of my own. What's the point? What's the purpose of it all? How could one person have to deal with so much in one short year? I know so many others that have suffered with such difficult things. Some far worse than anything I've been through. So again I ask, why? These are good people I'm talking about! 

  My mom has lived a hard life. She's had many challenges and heartaches. I've seen her step up and do what needs to be done no matter how tired she was. Then in the evenings or early mornings when everything is quiet she would cry. She would cry to the Lord on her knees asking for more strength, desiring only to do His will. When I heard of her cancer I was angry. She doesn't need to be tested anymore! She shouldn't have to suffer anymore! Why can't she just have a little taste of what it's like to be carefree? What I've come to realize is that her cancer is not a punishment. It is not some final test that she has to pass. I don't know why she has stage four lung cancer. What I do know is that Heavenly Father loves her! He has been with her every step of the way. He is saddened to see her in pain. It is through her cancer that He is showing her His power. It is through her cancer that He is bringing her even closer to Him. She has been told as much in a priesthood blessing and I have felt His love for her. My sister, Laura, once told me in the middle of my crisis that Heavenly Father had me in the cradle of His hand. Those words pierced my soul and I could feel the truth of that statement fill every part of me. Once again I feel that same divine truth all around me. This time it is my mom that is in the cradle of His hand. When I am with her I am in the presence of many who have gone on before. The veil is thin and I can feel them comforting her, watching out for her. She is so loved!

   So how does this all apply to me, to you? It is through times of EXTREME hardship and trial that we can begin to learn more fully of our Heavenly Father's power. As we suffer and we feel broken down with no where else to go, we can become more receptive to the Spirit. I know this to be true because I have seen it in my life this last year. I feel almost as if Heavenly Father was saying, "Trust Me my child, let Me show you My power. Watch as I take care of you." When I have had literally no money, miraculously He has provided again and again. When I have had no strength left in me, He has heard my cries and given me strength to stand. When I haven't known the answers, He has provided them to me in very clear and distinct ways. He has brought complete strangers into my life that have taken care of me in one way or another. I have absolutely seen miracles! 

   It is through times of EXTREME hardship and trial that we can begin to learn more fully of our Savior's love for us. I have ached and I continue to ache. I will always have things in my life that make me ache. When I feel that pain and I kneel in prayer I am reminded of One who not only understood my pain but literally felt it. Guys he felt every single one of our pains. Every person on the planet! That is huge! I have very little comprehension for it but the more life experience I gain and the more difficult things I experience the more gratitude I feel for Him. I know more about His love now than I did after I found out about the abuse, or when my dad died. Each new trial brings a little more comprehension for His love and a lot more gratitude for Him. 

   I know this is going to sound like a bunch of bologna to some of you and frankly sometimes it sounds like bologna to me but I would go through every hardship I've ever had all over again to be where I am today. To know Him a little better than I did. My relationship with Him, however limited it may be, is that sweet! I know as I go through these hard times that I will come to know Him a little bit more. 

   So what is the point? Why do good people have to suffer? Is it some big test or punishment? I know we are told we are sent here to be tested and I believe that but sometimes I think it's different than that. Sometimes I think the point is to learn of Heavenly Father's power and to learn of Christ's love more fully. To become humble and meek. To experience some of the miracles in my life I had to go through some pain first. I had to become humble. I would not even have been in a position to receive them had I not. I am grateful for those miracles! I am grateful to have witnessed God's power in my life! I am grateful for our Savior's love! It doesn't seem fair or right that some people should suffer the way that they do but when I look at it from a different perspective, an eternal one, I see that the reward is FAR GREATER than any pain we may experience here on earth.  

   

  

The Little Things

 

  Life has a way of surprising you even when you think nothing could shock you. A few weeks ago my family received some terrible news: My mom has lung cancer. My mom who has never smoked a day in her life has LUNG cancer! It has been a crazy couple of weeks as you can imagine. Doctors appointments, school, kids. I never saw this coming. I had assumed given the year I have already had that I was safe from anything else; my family was safe from anything else. Life can be downright discouraging sometimes. I have had days where I wasn't sure how much more I could take. I have felt so completely heartbroken and empty at times that I physically felt like my insides were falling apart. There have been moments and even days when I didn't know if the pain would ever end. Sometimes I have thought the pain was finally over only to be hit with another wave of it.Why this? Why now?  
  At the end of any relationship I feel like there is some degree of damage. I spent nine years in an unhealthy relationship. You can't stay in an unhealthy relationship that long without a lot of sacrifice and losing a piece of yourself. I had forgotten what made me, me. I had lost my passion for life. I had forgotten what it felt like to have dreams and goals. When January came and everything hit the fan I was this shell of a person. I had given everything I had, all of my energy, to making this toxic marriage work. When that day came, as awful as it was, I began to find my strength again. I found my voice and little by little I have only added to that strength. Along the way I have used many little things to fill in the broken cracks and keep me moving. And again now that I'm dealing with another hardship I rely on the little things to get me through.
  Music has always been a big part of my life. I find strength from good lyrics. A couple of days after I found out about the abuse I created a playlist called, "stronger, braver, fearless". As time has gone on and I've healed from that trial I find myself using that same playlist to draw strength as I deal with my mom's cancer.
  I have a few necklaces that I wear when I feel like I need some extra strength. I put on my necklaces like a piece of armor.

, "Be Brave: Follow your arrow wherever it points".

I have another one like the arrow except it's an anchor and it says:

"Strength: Refuse to Sink"

      One day not too long after I had told my friends about what I was going through my two friends, Tory and Jaynee, pulled me aside at mutual and gave me a little box with this necklace in it.

It says, "I am a warrior"

   I obviously love good quotes and have spent a lot of time reading faith affirming quotes that I could gain strength from. Words have power. My pinterest board titled, "Quote Love" has nearly 500 quotes and counting. 

    There is a picture hanging up in my home that I look at often. It is of Christ walking on the water. I have looked at this picture many times these last few weeks and thought to myself about Peter. "Lord save me!" I know He is there with His hand outstretched to me even though I feel like I am sinking. I often reflect on the feelings I shared in this post, "Be Still". 

  An empowering song, a necklace, a picture, a good quote. I know these seem like really simple, trivial things but they gave me strength and continue to do so. I have struggled to understand what Heavenly Father's plan is for me. I have even wondered at times if my life was some sort of sick joke. More faith has been required of me than I even knew I had. When I don't think I have anymore to give, when I feel completely depleted I am being asked to give even more. I am constantly having to dig a little deeper. It's been surprising to me how much these little things have helped me to find not only my inner strength but my joy for life despite the difficulties I face. 

   Perhaps the little thing that gives me the most joy and strength are my memories and tender little moments. The time my mom and I treated each other for lice and laughed and cried simultaneously. Watching my brother experience pure joy at a rock concert. My sons little voice singing, "I Love to See the Temple" on a drive. A hug from my sister after seeing her for the first time since we learned of my mom's cancer. Simply sitting by my brother on the couch and teasing each other like we were kids. A cupcake war with close friends and frosting everywhere. Dancing in the kitchen with my sister. Holding a chubby, little Olaf hand as we go trick-or-treating. Sweet little love notes from my daughter. Rubbing my mama's back during church. These little moments I hold on to. My memories are magic that make the hard times in life sweet.

  On Halloween my mom celebrated her 69th birthday. I gave her an arrow necklace of her own. I have watched her take this terrible news in stride. She has so much faith and is an incredibly strong woman but I have seen fear in her eyes. I know she is afraid of what the cancer is doing to her body. I know she is afraid of time, of how much of it she might have. There is simply no way with our mortal minds to fully comprehend the why's of life. All we can do is have faith in Heavenly timing and a Father who is mindful of our pain. Some days my faith feels like it's on short supply and that's where these little things come in. They fill in the cracks and carry me over until I gain more understanding. My hope for her and for any of you that are dealing with challenges in life is that you find the little things in your life that help you to be a little braver, a little stronger, and live life a little more fearlessly. As someone once told me, "when you are going through difficult times in life look for the tender mercies in life and then whatever you do remember them! Draw on them for strength. Never forget!"