There is something about death,
It hits you in the gut,
Knocks you down,
You think of everything that you wish you had said,
Done,
And you are reminded of them,
In the little things.
The wind blows,
And you remember their voice.
As your heart breaks
Knowing you will no longer pass them on the street,
Never again say "hello, how are you"
Never again hear their stories.
And your eyes fill,
Once again,
With tears.
Tears for all of those in their life who were closer than you,
Hoping they have no regrets.

Final

Grandma passed away yesterday morning. I'm still not sure how I feel, such a mix of emotions filling me.
I'm happy for her, because the last few years have been hard on her physically. I'm happy that she's with my grandpa and her family who has passed on before her (but really, with my grandpa, my eyes gets teary when I think of the how it must have been for them to be together after 30 years).
I'm sad for me, because I miss her. But I miss the grandma I had years ago, the one who was always moving and making memories with us. The one who joked and could hear. The happy person she was.
But...
but...
Really I'm sad for my kids who won't get to know her, Natalie and Abby who never got to know her.

APRIL

So far April has not been a good month. It started with dry sockets, a pain that was miserable and still lingers just a wee bit. Getting wisdom teeth out at 36 isn't fun. The recovery was hard.

On April 5th we were supposed to celebrate my grandma's 93rd birthday in Coolidge. I was one week out from the extraction and I was crossing my fingers that the pain would be manageable by then. The girls all wanted to go to see cousins, and Will needed to stay home and get some things done around the house.

The Tuesday (I think) before the party, my mom texted me to tell me that she was taking Grandma to the ER because she was having trouble breathing. My heart sank but I was hopeful that she'd soon be on the mend and wouldn't miss her party. There was no good news, the drs thought it was her heart, or pnemonia, or both, or just her body was giving out. They gave her blood and hoped for the best.

Thursday my mom texted me to let me know my brother was on his way to the ER with an infection in his arm. His wife was forcing him to go and I'm so glad she did.

Friday the girls and I drove to Coolidge to stay at my parents' house. They were remodeling the kitchen and the house was torn apart. But there is always room for us there. Friday they moved my grandma to Hospice so that she could have visitors all day on her birthday. At the hospital she couldn't have her great-grandkids visit and that was miserable for her. She loves her family so much that thinking of not getting to see them was hard and since there was no way they would let her leave to go to her party, she needed to see everyone.

Saturday morning we headed to her house just around the corner from my parents'. My Aunt Lynda was there working and not sitting still for a moment, my cousin Carter was there and I hadn't seen him in years so that was a great surprise. He and I was very close during high school, because we are the same age and had very similar interests. I wouldn't have enjoyed high school as much without him by my side.

People came and went all day long, heading to Casa Grande to spend time by Grandma's side, then coming back to eat food and talk with relatives. Grandma had rented a little train for the great-grands and they loved it. I wish she could have seen the happiness on their faces as the conductor drove them around the neighborhood. Her eyes would have twinkled.

The day wore on and on. Finally people left and we ate more. Brie took her girls to see Grandma around 7, I was planning on seeing her in the morning then leaving for home from CG. Rhayn had gone back to my mom's house a few hours earlier to play with one cousin, because there was just too much going on at Great-Grandma's house. The other girls and I went back to my mom's around 8:30 and went to bed.

In the morning, I took girls to Jesse's house. He was having surgery at 7am and Brie was staying there to watch his kids so Stacey could be with him. My parents went over early to help out. I took a quick trip to spend some time with Jodi, (my brother, Garrett's wife). Then went to Jesse's house to hang out a little while before heading to CG to see Grandma. 

We got to CG around 12:30 and relieved Aunt Lynda, Uncle Danny and his kids, who were there so they could go eat, and the girls and I spent some time with Grandma. It was so hard seeing her like that. She looked so tiny in the bed, and her breathing wasn't easy. I held her hand for a while and gave her hugs. But I had all of the girls with me. Abby slept in the carrier on my back for a little while, but when she woke up she wanted to crawl around and I wouldn't let her. Natalie was scared of Great-grandma, she stayed back and I sent Rhayn, Gwen and Natalie for a walk. We stayed for an hour and a half. In the beginning Grandma joked a little about how God didn't want her and the devil won't take her. One of her oldest jokes. She talked about how much she missed Grandpa, who had died nearly 30 years ago. Someone had brought his picture and it was on the nightstand next to her. She told me how handsome he was and my eyes filled with tears that I wouldn't let fall. I could not start crying. Even though I was sure this would be the last time I would get to talk to my grandma. I told her how much I loved her. I wish I would have said more, told her how much she means to me, what an inspiration she's been in my life. How many people she's touched. I wished my girls hadn't been there so I could have just sat with her for the rest of the day.

After an hour and a half, Natalie was starting to act up. She's three and it was hard for her to be good for that long, plus she was tired and needed a nap. I went to find the girls and we filed back into Grandma's room. We gave her more hugs and kisses and she smiled at the camera when I sat the girls next to her for a final picture. I'm kicking myself because I didn't hand the camera to one of the girls and get a picture of ME with her. I'd thought of it earlier but I forgot until we left. We all told her we loved her, and with that final sentiment, we walked out of the room.

Its been a week now, and my heart breaks again every day. She's still hanging on, but she isn't Grandma anymore. Thanks to Facebook my mom and Aunt Suzy keep all of us who are far away informed about everything that happens to her. On Sunday the family had a fast and prayer for her, not that she get better, we all know that isn't the best thing for her. But to give her peace and allow her to join my Grandpa and her sister Deloris in heaven.

I've been weepy every day, trying to go about my normal business, keeping myself busy, busy, busy, because there is nothing I can do and I'm not sure what I should do or how I should feel. I find myself checking Facebook and reading stories my cousins post about her, and their favorite memories. I hear in my head her voice counting, and skipping that one number (I think it was twelve), counting with grandkids, making us giggle. "I never say twelve, 1,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, THIRTEEN!" she'd say. I hear her voice, telling me about all of the things my cousins were up to.

Just now, again checking Facebook, I read updates from my mom like this one:

"Tuesday morning. While Suzy told her that 4/14/14 would be a good day to die, grandma held on to life. Slowly slipping deeper and deeper into that eternal rest. This morning they were not able to get a pulse even though they tried both wrists and one ankle. She is sleeping so peacefully as if any moment she is going to sit up and start talking. She had one short episode last night around midnight where she keep calling for help. She has done that several times over the past few days. Each episode is a little shorter and a lot less intense. Suzy sat constant watch (with her eyes shut) with her last night as Danny and Kim went to a hotel to finally get a shower and rest. Craig and I left so we could finish our income taxes because the only thing certain in this world is death and taxes."

I've spent this morning, tears streaming down my face, finally allowing myself to really mourn and cry. And still I hear her voice in my head "THIRTEEN!"

I need to let go.
I need to let it all go.
Let it out, these emotions I am holding tightly in myself.
I need to cry.
I need to cry those big ugly tears.
Big gasping sobs.
Because I am sad and overwhelmed by life.
And I have been keeping it all inside because I am afraid to let it out. Afraid my grief will consume me slowly from the outside in, instead of dissolving me from the inside out like it is now.
Because I can hide that. I can cover up that. And no one knows how sad I am inside.
But it is all fake, a cover, a sheet hung over a broken window to keep everyone from knowing it is broken.
But they know.
They know.

I sit here and feel the stinging of tears.
 But once again,
they refuse to fall.

Death.

I know that it is a normal part of life and living. Death will come to us all at some point or another. But as I sit here snuggling my newest child, watching her sleep suck and as her eyelids flutter, I can't imagine death.

Yet these last few weeks I have lost two people in my extended family. Two people that I didn't know very well. My Father-in-law I had only met a few times. I had had conversations over coffee with him while he stayed at our house in Phoenix. I hadn't seen him in years. For him I feel a great sense of sadness that my girls will never get to know their grandpa. Abby and Natalie never even met him. I am still not even sure how to feel about that.

And this morning my mom texted to let us know that my Aunt Pam passed peacefully this morning. I've known her my whole life. She always had the most beautiful houses, her children are wonderful people and have always been part of my life. her death doesn't directly affect me, but it does. It makes me sad because it is death. She had grandchildren who will no longer get to see her.

I haven't cried.
I know eventually I will.

Our family has always been healthy, and yes there have been deaths over the years but not many of those close to me (not since I was a young child and both of my grandpas died from heart attacks). Our family on Earth grew and grew. But now it is getting slowly smaller. Slowly we're losing members. Now of course, we all know this will happen. Accepting it is really hard.

Funeral

On August 29th, 2013 we received some news that we knew was coming.

Will's father had passed away.

He'd been on the decline for about 9 months after a fall and some surgeries. He had finally just... given up. He didn't want to live bedridden because he'd always been an active guy.

Will and I flew to Idaho on September 2nd (well actually we flew to SLC and drove to Idaho Falls). We'd never been on an airplane together, we'd never traveled out of state, except once to California when I was pregnant with Gwen. It was a sad occasion to require travel but it was really nice to get that time together.

On our drive we took a turn off of the interstate because of Abby and ended up driving past the place where Will had lived as a young boy. It was getting dark so I didn't get to see much of the landscape between Pocatello and Idaho Falls (and I really missed out as I found out on the drive back).

We arrived late in the evening at his sister Angela's house where we were going to be staying. His sister Kendra was also staying there. Kendra is his only full sibling and is a little younger than he is. His dad had 3 daughters who are older and were nearly grown when Will was born.

Tuesday morning we had a slow morning and went out for breakfast at Dixie's Diner (it was excellent and we ended up eating there a few other times, too) which used to be a Five and Diner. Then went to Will's dad's house to go through his things. The memorial/funeral was going to be held on Wednesday. We spent nearly all day going through his things. He kept a lot of things from his time in Korea and there was many pictures of his kids. I walked around the neighborhood. It was beautiful there, so very green and lush grass, yards full of gardens and fresh rhubarb.

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Wednesday morning we all got up and got dressed. Black clothes and a Maltese don't mix well and we were constantly picking long white dog hair off of our clothes. But the memorial was good. Will's dad had touched many people. According to his children, he wasn't the best father, but he was a good person. He had been deeply religious later in life. He came from a family of 4 boys and one girl. One of his brothers had died before him, and we met his other 2 brothers and the little sister. She had great stories and was just about the cutest little lady ever. I enjoyed listening to her tell about their life and how her dad had always said that her mom had "eyes like a cow" which many people might be offended by, but she wasn't. We got pictures of the siblings, 4 beautiful ladies and 1 handsome son. At the funeral there were people who came up and introduced themselves to Will, saying it was clear he was part of that family, he looked just like his dad.


Thursday Will and I drove around. We went to his dad's house again to take a few things that Will wanted that reminded him of his dad. We sent them home via UPS. Then we went to the falls and walked around for a while. Will has suffering from what he thought were bad allergies. It made sense because the grass was tall and green and abundant. After we spent time at the falls we drove up to visit one of his other sisters (from his mom's side, he has 3 sisters and 1 brother on that side- not including his younger sister, though one of them passed away 18 years ago from cancer).

We got back to Idaho Falls and went out to dinner. Then went back to his sister's house and went to bed.

Friday morning we went to Dixie's Diner again and then we left to drive back to SLC for our flight back to AZ.

We basically traveled all day, which makes for a long day. We arrived home around 11pm. My mom and dad had stayed at our house with the 3 older girls. (So glad for that, it made the trip easier.)

Accepting Death

Long ago, a family lived just down the street from this "big rock". The kids often strolled past it while going about their daily business. In the 1920s and 1930s they grew up in a teeny, tiny South Dakota town. Not too far from DeSmet, SD (of Laura Ingalls Wilder fame). Eventually getting married and having their own children.
In the 1940s, the lovely lady on the left, Loretta went to California to work. She met a wonderful man named Lynn, and married him, starting my family line.
In the late 1950s, my mom was born, the youngest of 6 children.
For years Loretta would fly home to South Dakota (sometimes she would drive) to visit the big rock, and her sister.
In the 1970s she brought her children, and as the family story goes, my dad asked my mom if she wanted a beer, (he was raised Lutheran) and she declined but they started writing letters to each other. He eventually moved to Arizona to work on the family farm and to marry my mom.
Loretta later brought grandchildren with her, mostly my family because our dad is from this same miniscule town in South Dakota (and we were able to visit both sides of our family).
We got to know her sister, our Great-Aunt D. We were lucky, my baby sister and I, a new generation of sisters, listening to an older generation of sisters as one crocheted and the other gladly took out her mistakes. Joking, laughing, loving, always loving.
I think we knew these old biddies best of all.
I'll never regret those trips to, what I consider, our homeland.
I'll never regret those long hours and days listening to the old stories and fun times with these women.

But a few weeks ago my Aunt D passed away.
And my Grandma is 90.

Things change.

And all I have are those memories, fleeting thoughts, from many trips to Ramona, South Dakota.
Memories of sisters.
I hold those dear.
Especially now.
When only one half of those "twins" are still here on Earth.

Writing

Very much like my mom, I dream of someday writing a book. Not a silly memoirs book (no that comes later, after the fame from my well received, world renowned book or even book series.)

I have attempted to come up with ideas for years. There was the story about a teenage girl, and another about a teenage girl. Once I had a great idea for a story about this woman who has a baby and as the child is born they are transported into a fairy land. I think I made it about a chapter into that one. I hope that that is one that makes it into my finished story list, someday.

But the other day, I came up with the best idea EVER. I am totally not sharing it here, other than to say it is about Beckham and his adventures before Will brought him home, not in a Cat Who Went to Paris by Peter Gethers sort of way, though. It will be fantasy, because I love a good animal Fantasy like Wild Road by Gabriel King. I have yet to make it through Watership Down by Richard Adams, but I had tried to read it a few times. I can't say it is my all-time favorite genre, but it is one of them.

Plus, Beckham was such a special cat, he deserves a book written about him. I have also considered a children's book using the pictures we had taken of him and writing a poem to describe them. That actually might be a good start, too. I can print the picture book off using My Publisher, because they come out quite awesome (and at $12.95 for a 20 page paperback it is not costly.) I had a picture book of Rhayn made for her for Christmas last year. I really wanted to make the children's book for Will for Christmas, but a poem is not coming to me, usually they come fast and furious when I start writing them, so I may still have time.

More Tragedy

A really good friend of Rock's shot himself today. He was the guy who gave us Lily Lou Lickington. I feel a numbness, because I didn't know him very well, but he seemed like such a together person. He had issues, but who doesn't? Why would you kill yourself? What would make life so bad that you can not go on with it?

I just feel so fortunate that -
a) I love my life. I can not fathom ending it, even when I am totally depressed.
b) The people I have been friends with have not be suicidal. I have been lucky to have friends who were quite happy, and saw the brighter side of life, not matter what. I know that since Will and I have been together this is the second of their friends who has been shot, and probably the second suicide (although the first looks like it may have been murder.)
c) My husband is stable, he loves us and would never do anything like this to those who love him.

Geesh- and although this isn't depressing like death, I just (like as I was typing this) got a call from my cousin who said he is moving to Oregon/Washington. Grrr... in like two weeks. I am so sad about that. Sigh. I am really going to miss him, I hope he has a great life up there, with our cousin Alex's Human. (**Really moving to Washington, he mentioned Portland when we were on the phone, and never having been to those states, sadly, they are hard to distinguish for me.)

I swear that I have some good, happy posts in me. I have been so busy lately that I have been seriously neglecting my blog. Hopefully I will get some time this weekend to write. I need it. It is therapeutic to me.

You might want to skip this one, or get tissues.

It has been two days now, and I still just feel sad. I know he was "just a cat" but he was MY cat, and I loved that little furball. However he was the most charismatic cat we had ever met. People came to our house, and he would meet and greet them. He entertained us, and played with our dog. I just can not imagine how our life will be without him .

I am at my parents house, it usually cheers me up. It just doesn't seem to be working at all. I look at myself in the mirror and I can SEE the sadness in my eyes. I am glad not to be home, not seeing all of the spots that used to hold my sweet black and white kitty.

There are places, like the pillow above my head that he used to always sleep, that will always remind me of him. He had been so sick that for weeks that he hadn't been sleeping there. But that night, Thursday night, he was there, curled in a ball, on my pillow, not purring like he used to, but he was there. And for the last night I fell asleep stroking his fur. In the morning I woke to touch his cold foot. For a moment I thought maybe he had passed in the night, but his head popped up and a feeble mew escaped his mouth.

Would it have been easier if he had died in the night? I think so, because it would not have been our decision to end his life. Not that choosing to put him down was easy, but it wasn't the hardest choice to make. I saw the x-ray. I saw how much foreign stuff was in him, and how his trachea was pushed up to his spine and crowded by the fluid and growths that filled his chest. I knew the second the vet brought the first x-ray out, the "normal pet" x-ray to show me what it SHOULD look like, that I would hear nothing good at that time.

This death made me think of my Grandma, and how someday, she will cease to be there. Someday she will not be a phone call or car ride away. It made me wonder if I am using my time with her as wisely as I should. Did I appreciate my cat as much as I could. I think so. We called him "the best kitty ever" and told everyone how great he was, until I am sure that they were sick to death of hearing about him. Yet, do I appreciate my Grandma as much as I did Beckham? I don't think I really do.

RIP Beckham

We had to put him down.

As I was posting earlier, Will was on his way home. He is sick with a cold, so they let him come home early. When he came in, I told him the news. Then we decided to go and pick Rhayn up from school, so that she could say goodbye.

We headed to the vet, and all gave him a last snuggle. Will stayed in the room with him so he wouldn't be alone. At 10:30 am 7 September 2007, our sweet boy cat went to sleep, never to wake up.

We buried him in our front yard (we have a digging type dog, and didn't want to find Beckham's body.) I have been crying all morning, it is so hard to imagine. Never again will I hear him purr, or meow, or feel his sweet body on the pillow above mine at night. But it is for the best, there was nothing we could do.

The vet also said, it only LOOKS like Leukemia, the only way to know for sure is to test. We will take our other two furrballs in for that test in a few weeks. For now, we are just processing this death.