10 Years part 1

It has taken me a while to write this post, I've had to write it in shifts.  I don't know why I have felt the need to share such a personal and painful period of my life, but it's been plaguing me for the last couple months.  Yet it has been therapy for me. So here I am...writing...in shifts, because it's the only way I could do this.

I'm really good at putting my deepest feelings in a box, a big box; like a cedar chest, and then walking away.  The box is always there at the foot of my bed.  Somedays I see it, and it'll stir an emotion deep inside but I quickly walk away and pretend it isn't there, and the thought of it is quickly forgotten.  Other days, I know it's there but I don't acknowledge it's presence.  Then there are days when I'll walk by it, and the memories are screaming at me from within and they are too loud to ignore, and I'm drawn to it.  I kneel at it and open it up and revisit some of the most painful memories, some that I have tried to bury deep within the walls of my heart's mausoleum, yet are still very much alive.  This post is one of those painful memories from a very difficult time in my life.

Reflecting on the year I lost my mother, brought back so many memories; good and bad.  The bad ones I've tried so hard to forget, but they are part of the story and they have made me stronger.

Here follows the early months of the year 2004...

This year marks the tenth anniversary of my mother's passing.  I have lived/survived a decade without my mother.  So much has happened since her death.  This realization of the length of time has had me looking back on the time that has elapsed and has caused memories to resurface; moments both happy and heartbreaking.

My parents and Michael and I on our wedding day
July 15, 2000

I remember what life was like in early 2004.  I was 25 years old, my husband and I had been married three and half years.  We were living with his parents and that was hard for us.  Not because of his parents, they are great people. (I look back and see how immature and selfish I was, and any annoyances that were caused were on my part; but that's a whole other story for a later post).  It was hard because there was so much going on in our lives and there wasn't any privacy.  We didn't have children yet.  I was working as a preschool teacher and my husband had just started working for his uncle.  I felt I couldn't mourn as I needed to dealing with my mother's illness, it was as though I had an audience, I suppose.

At this time, it was six months since my mother's diagnosis with lung cancer and chemo had seem to do  well at shrinking the tumor in her left lung but the side affects of the chemo killing her immune system caused a sore to develop on her abdomen, which required the need to postpone the chemo until the sore healed.  This put her in the hospital in December of 2003.  My last Christmas with her was a stormy day, spent in a hospital room.  Two days later was her 50th birthday, which should've been a joyous occasion; a happy milestone.  I baked her cupcakes that she didn't even eat, and I watched her as she dozed in and out of sleep, and moaned from the pain of her sore.  It took a while for the sore to heal. During that break from chemo, the tumor grew bigger than before she began chemotherapy.  Things went down hill after that.

I remember my last Mother's Day with her, I knew it would be the last one.  Michael was the one to take my mother to her chemo appointments, between my father, Michael and I, it was my husband's schedule that was flexible enough to do so.  I am very envious of this time Michael had with my mother, yet if anyone should have taken her, it was definitely better that it was him.  Because my mother had been dealing with that sore and then the tumor growing bigger, sometimes her white blood cells were too high and she wasn't able to get chemo, that's a bad thing.  So Michael would take her to Tommy's to get a burger (my mother never enjoyed that place but she'd go just because she knew Michael loved it).  At this point, my mother knew that the odds were against her.  My husband is a very good man, it was during those times in a burger joint that heaven was on earth for a brief moment.  Michael would teach my mother The Plan of Salvation, and it would bring her peace and comfort knowing that we would see her again.

I remember how she was put on oxygen, and needed a wheel chair when my husband and I took her and my father places.  My father is in a wheelchair due to polio he contracted at seven months old.

Before my mother's diagnosis, spending time with my parents had been fun.  We'd take them out to dinner, or walk around the mall, go see a movie.  But things were obvious different.  We still went out to dinner but my mother was on oxygen and was now in need of a wheelchair because any exertion caused her to have shortness of breath, and almost suffocate.

Two weeks before she passed away, we learned she had emphysema in the other lung, things were not looking well and she was given six months left to live.

I remember my last conversation with her.  I didn't realize it at the time that it would be our last, but she knew.  It was aTuesday, July 6th. I had gone a field trip with my preschoolers during the day and that afternoon I got another phone call from my father saying my mother had another shortness of breath episode.  She was taken by ambulance to the hospital and Michael and I were on our way to see her.  This was becoming a common occurrence, at least once a week my father had to call 911 because my mother was having trouble breathing from simple acts that all of us take for granted: getting up from the couch, changing her sitting position.  These are all things that would cause her to have shortness of breath, as if she ran a marathon.  The shortness of breath would then cause panic, which would increase the suffocating.

We got to the hospital and talked to my mother.  It was our last conversation, I didn't know it at the time but looking back, she knew.  She talked about the pain, the fear, the constant struggle to breathe.  I told her that if she needed to, she could let go and move on and not stay with us just to keep us all happy, her living in pain and constant suffocation was not the way to live.  She then asked about my father and  who would take care of him.  She said she never got to meet her grandchildren and was sad about that.  She hoped we would have twins, (I'm pretty sure she had something to do with us having twins three years later. She told me to always keep my hair long, she always like my hair long.  This was nine days before my birthday/wedding anniversary.  My mother always made a big deal out of birthdays, she said she was sorry she was going to miss it.  Still, I didn't think was going to be our last conversation.  Michael talked to her next, visiting rules were only one at a time.  She told him that she wanted to move on as well, but was afraid to tell my dad.  He wasn't ready to let go.  We both had told her we would talk to him.  We left that night.  I didn't say anything to my father because I was so mentally exhausted at my conversation with my mom, I thought I had one more day.  I'd tell him in the morning.

Michael and I went home, I got a call a few hours later from my father.  My mother had another breathing attack and was intubated with a breathing tube an hour or so after we left.  He said she fought the nurses as they were trying to intubate her.  I should've told my father what my mother said earlier that evening.

We rushed to the hospital.  My mother was sedated.  Every time she came to, she tried to pull out her breathing tube so they sedated her and tied her wrists to the bed.  It was so horrible seeing my mother like that.

The days that followed were very difficult and there were very difficult decisions that had to be made, that my father and I had to agree on.  There were so many personal things that went on that I cannot share in this post.

Thursday, July 8th we were at the hospital.  I knew she was slipping away.  I looked out one of the windows and saw the fiery sun setting in the sky, I felt peace.  I felt her there with me, and I knew that we were both watching the sun set together.  I knew that this was the last sunset that would happen while she was still technically alive, but I felt her spirit there with me.  Michael and I left, so that my father could be alone with my mother.

My mother passed away early in the morning on July 9th.  We went back to the hospital.  There she was, her mortal shell lying on the bed.  I rubbed her forehead and gave it a kiss, it was cold.  I wasn't prepared for that. My mother's body temperature was always so warm; warmer than normal.  As a little girl, I would snuggle up to her to keep me warm and as I got older I would still ask her to hold my hands when they were cold.  Right now, I can still feel how warm those hands felt clasping mine.  I put my hands under her body, where it was still somewhat warm yet not as warm as when she was still alive.

My mother and I when I was a little girl

That morning we went to Denny's with my father to try to eat and to discuss funeral plans.  Growing up, my parents talked about how they planned on going to Target (which was down the street from my parents home) on Tuesday's after my father retired because that was when the senior citizens went. They talked about going there to eat and to shop.  When we would go out to dinner together at Denny's or Norm's, they talked about how they looked forward to ordering from the senior menu.  My parents had plans to grow old together, but wasn't to be.  And I was reminded of that as I sat there trying to come to the realization that my mother was truly gone, no less than a week prior all four of us sat at a restaurant together, but here only the three of us sat there at a table for four with an empty chair where she should've sat. I looked up to see an older couple walk into the restaurant, a cruel reminder of what was not to be.

My parents long ago

A few nights after she passed, she came to me in a dream.  I really, really needed that dream.  I was back at the hospital, looking at her still alive but sedated attached to machines to keep her body running. But then she was standing next to me, it was her spirit.  She looked healthy and was dressed in white, she pointed me to look at her body, then stood in front of me and put her hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm okay, you did the right thing."  I am so grateful that she came to me in that dream, it has brought me so much peace and comfort still till this day.

Though this was THE most difficult moment I've ever experienced, I am so grateful that I had the Gospel to get me through such a painful time in my life.  I know that I will see my mother again.  I know that families are forever.  I am so grateful for my Savior Jesus Christ and all that He has done for, not just me, but for you and for all mankind, so that families can live in eternity.

Because of His Atonement and sacrifice, we can have peace in difficult times and we can live with one another again after death.  There is more to this life here on earth, there is more to follow.

We had family photos taken before she started chemo and lost her hair

Oh dear

Okay, so here I am again trying to do the blog thing.

Seriously, I have topics in my head ALL THE TIME that I imagine blogging about, but I never do.  Why?  Time is most likely the biggest factor.  As a homeschooling mother of four, it's impossible to sit with my laptop on my lap and type away without any distractions, but that's a good thing.  I love my kids and am grateful for their reminders of how blessed I am to be their mother.  I guess I can always blog at night, but that is special time for me and the hubby.

Here it is, 11:48 pm and I'm up blogging while everyone is asleep.  I don't think I'll make this a habit.  But I'd really like to blog about all the things that go on in my life.  Okay maybe not ALL the things, but some of them.  Like the funny things that happen with my kids.

In fact, this last Sunday, Joseph was chewing gum.  I saw him playing with it and reminded him to keep it in his mouth.  No less than a minute later, he is screaming and I see him rubbing his eyes.  He had blown a bubble and when it popped, most of the gum flew up, hit his eye and got stuck in those gorgeous long eyelashes of his.  I kind of chuckled because I knew that it wasn't as horrible as he thought, and there was a tiny voice inside my head that said, "Don't forget to take a picture." But my sweet little boy was panicking so I opted to rescue his eye instead.  I also didn't want him thinking, "Really mom? My eye is glued shut with gum and all you think about is taking a picture?"

When I was five years old, it was almost Halloween and I was planning on being a witch.  My mother braided my hair a couple days before and then the morning of Halloween she undid my braids and I had crazy frizzy witch hair.  That night had been fun, I trick or treated with my cousins then we went back to my grandmother's home to play.  I remember chewing on some gum while playing and it somehow flew out of my mouth and into my hair.  It was a mess.  I thought my mother would have to cut my hair, but she used peanut butter to get it out.

So that's what I did to my gummy bear.  He freaked when he saw me getting a butter knife to scoop up a small amount of peanut butter.  I calmed him with a prayer and then proceeded to get the gum out.  After a couple of minutes, his eye was clean and he could open it and was his happy self again.  He gave me a hug, and said, "Thank you mommy."

After a few minutes he came to me and said, "I almost died."  Oh the life of a five year old and the way they perceive things. My poor little guy.

Okay, I'm tired

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Stand for Truth and Righteousness

About a month ago, I strolled into Barnes & Noble while my children were at Science camp for a few hours.  It was Tuesday, story time day, so there were many children in the store.  I spent some time in the children's section, picking out some books for my children.  As I headed to the check out line, I walked passed one of the many tables of bargain books.  A particular book caught my eye, I saw the word "NUDE".  This book was on the very corner of the table, right where the line begins.  On the cover was a woman from the '50's era, laying on her back with her legs crossed, up in the air.  She looked at the camera with a smile on her face.  There were colored bubbles strategically placed on her body covering up all the good parts.  I was taken aback as I read the rest of the cover. "Hollywood Nudes" "in 3D".  There's no way, a book with fully nude women would be within reach of small children, right?  I must be crazy.  I had to open the book (which wasn't wrapped) to see if it were actually possible.  I opened it and saw fully naked women, in horrible poses.  Without hesitation, I grabbed the book and took it with me as I checked out.  No not to buy it, but to complain about it.  I was upset and showed the gal at the register the inside of the book and she was shocked too.  She called the manager and I told him that this book was absolutely inappropriate because small children can pick up the book and see pornography.  He was silent and had a look on his face as if it was no big deal.  When I proceeded to say that it shouldn't be out in the open where kids can have access to it, he proceeded to say that those kinds of books usually are wrapped and someone must have unwrapped it.  There were about four copies, none of those books were wrapped.  

I told him how much I LOVE books and enjoy bringing my children with me to his store, and that we will begin homeschooling in the Fall and I had planned on bringing my children often.  But I also told him that because books like this are out in the open, I cannot come back to the store because it's not a safe environment for my children.  Once I said that, he grabbed the books and put them behind the counter with all the other trashy magazines.  I was happy about that.

The sweet gal finished ringing me up.  She had mentioned that her and her siblings were homeschooled and that they loved it.  I found out she was Christian and I apologized for opening the book to show her the horrendous photos.

Two weeks later, I took my children back to this same Barnes and Noble.  We had a great time in the children's section.  We picked out some fun books and walked to the where the line begins.  And there it was; the same book, in the same corner, on the same table.  I was furious, this time I had my children with me.  How naive of me to think that a store would understand how harmful a pornographic book can be for children.  It is common sense isn't it?  I took the book with me once again to the check out stand to complain.  There was no manager in the store at the time, he was on break. So the gal ringing me up (a different one this time) said she was acting manager.  I told her my frustrations and how I wouldn't be back after this.  Once again, it seemed like it wasn't a big deal.

My cousin went back the following day.  The book was back in the same spot.

So apparently '50's porn is now considered art.  That's no excuse to allow it to be out in the open for all to see.  Porn is porn and just one look can leave a long lasting detrimental impact, especially on young children.

“Pornographic or erotic stories and pictures are worse than filthy or polluted food. The body has defenses to rid itself of unwholesome food. With a few fatal exceptions, bad food will only make you sick but do no permanent harm. In contrast, a person who feasts upon filthy stories or pornographic or erotic pictures and literature records them in this marvelous retrieval system we call a brain. The brain won’t vomit back filth. Once recorded, it will always remain subject to recall, flashing its perverted images across your mind and drawing you away from the wholesome things in life.” 

^{Elder Dallin H. Oaks}

I went back to the store to take a photo of the cover of the book, the ISBN number on the back, and unfortunately, a picture of what was inside.  I decided that I needed to complain to corporate.  So the next day I called and complained and I was given a case number but told that I probably wouldn't hear back from anyone.  I then sent an email to the company with the photos and told them I would never shop at the store again.  I received a confirmation email about my complaint which stated that I would hear back from someone within 24 hours.  I heard nothing.

Like I mentioned before.  I love books.  I get an adrenaline rush being surrounded by books in a store like Barnes & Noble.  I enjoy bringing by children there every once in a while to pick out a book to take home and keep, not one they have to borrow and return to the library, that's what makes it so special and exciting for them.  So the decision to never go there again was a very hard one for me and for my children.

Time went by, and I wondered if I should call corporate again or send another email with my case number.  I wondered if it was a lost cause.

Twelve days after my formal complaint, as I was driving my children to karate, I received a voice mail from the manager at Barnes & Noble.  He said that he wanted to talk with me to see if there was something we could do to make my shopping experience more enjoyable.  I was shocked.  I was a bit excited because I felt like I was finally heard.  Not just me, but all of my other friends who felt the same way I did about this issue.  More importantly, for the innocent children who cannot speak up and say, "Hey, this trash right here at my eye level and within reach of my hands, is no good for me and will harm my innocent and pure mind and plague me for the rest of my life."

I stopped by the store the next day to meet with him.  He showed me that the books were located behind the counter and said that he talked to all the managers and employees and told them that those books should remain in that spot.  He did mentioned that he still believes everyone should have the freedom to purchase whatever they want, but understands that not everyone will agree with what is being sold.  I reminded him that pornography shouldn't be out in the open where children can see it.  He said he understood, that he has three children at home.

I am grateful that I didn't give up but continued to stand for what I believed in and knew to be true.  I complained not only once, or twice, but also filed a formal complaint to the company.  It can be intimidating to choose the right at times because what the world considers popular, harmless, and acceptable, is actually detrimental for people. For more information on just how detrimental pornography can be, just click here

Even the notorious serial killer, Ted Bundy, felt it was so important to talk about the detrimental affects of pornography the day before he was executed and how it led him to kill many women and young girls.  Ted Bundy's last interview.

Starting over

Ok so here I am again trying to blog.  It's been over two years, oh dear where do I begin?

First off, I know why I don't blog, I don't have a patience to sit and type, especially right now as I'm typing from my iPad mini screen. I need a keyboard. I have a Bluetooth keyboard at home, but I'm in Salt Lake City right now so that isn't much help.

But the biggest reason I don't blog much is because I want to protect my family.  I love my children very much and do not want their photos floating around the Internet. Yes we have some on Facebook but hubbers and I have our profiles private. There are a lot of creepy people out there who create fake accounts using other people's photos, like this case

I miss life being simple; Life before smart phones, iPads, and Internet. When there wasn't a pull tugging people away from REAL LIFE.  When people, young and old, weren't addicted to their devices.  Yes, I will admit that sometimes I myself get trapped in that pull.  I don't want my miracle children to think that disappearing in technology is normal, because its not.

A friend posted this on facebook the other day and it was one more reminder of how easily we can forget the real world around us and become addicted to our "deVICEs".  I paid attention to people around me in public and noticed a lot of them were zoned into their vices and were ignoring their kids as they were climbing on handrails, or a couple out for dinner both in their own worlds.  Once again, I must confess that I am guilty of this as well.  But now that I am more aware of it, I make an effort not to pull out my vice so much.  I admit that I still feel that pull once in a while, but the more I don't look at it, the more I realize how much I don't need it.

Before I move on from this topic, I will share one more thing I read the other day.  It was an article that talks about teens being so addicted to their vices that some parts of the brain are not developing properly.  That's scary, doctors have labeled it "digital dementia".

So all the above I wrote while we were still in Salt Lake City.  Now we are back home.  Prince Charming and I had the pleasure of having the company of another wonderful couple with us who aren't members of the church, they kept commenting on how peaceful and clean Utah was.  It was true, it was so peaceful and quiet and clean.  Definitely not like L.A.  I would love to live in Utah, but we are stuck here for now.

This was our view from the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building where we had a delicious dinner at a restaurant called The Garden

In the Joseph Smith Building, there is a film about the life of Joseph Smith and how the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

I am so grateful for all that he did, all that he sacrificed.  I'm so grateful that he stood for what was right and that he never gave up or denied what he knew to be true.  It would've been so easy for him to say that what he saw, never happened so that he and his family could live in peace instead of constant persecution.

To learn more about the sacrifices I'm writing about, just watch this film