Ryan

My nephew Ryan passed away this weekend in a tragic motorcycle accident.  I (along with the rest of his family) am heart broke that it happened.  It was the last thing any of us expected.

The last time I saw him was not good (because of some strained family dynamics), but the time before that was at a big family dinner at my mom and dad's house.  We played Spoons, took pictures and felt like a big happy family that night.

My best memory of him is from about four years ago.  We went to coffee in town, and talked for a couple of hours about everything and anything.  He had one of those minds that could wander down lots of different subjects, so talking with him was really fun.  He had been going to AA for about a year at that point (I realize that is an anonymous group, but he was very vocal about it himself, and was very close to the people there so I don't think he would've minded me saying it), and he had all the hope of someone on a new path. I had been going through some hard times myself, so we were able to talk about what we were going through and what we were doing to make things better. I was glad to hear that he had stayed on that path, and his life seemed to be going in a good direction.

He had a fifteen year old son and a baby boy (around two years old).  He was my brother Lonnie's only child. I just can't even imagine what he is going through right now.

I Can Not Imagine

Reading about the Boston Marathon bombing is almost more than I can handle.  I read about the mom who lost her 8 year old son, while her 6 year old daughter and herself were also injured, and of course I identify with her.  I can not imagine such a loss, and I cannot imagine how I would survive the feelings of absolute hatred of whoever did such a thing.  My mind boggles.

As a mother, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't struggle with the fragility of human life.  There is no safe place in this world, doesn't matter if it is school, the workplace, a mall, or even a marathon.

As a runner, I know that feeling when nearly crossing the line and I know the appreciation I have felt in the past for the people who have supported me during my run.  I know the joy I had at having my children there to witness me do something that I've trained for and accomplished.  I just can't imagine something so evil happening at a moment like that.

I know the reasons for the wickedness in the world.  I know why there are critical times hard to deal with.  I am hopeful for the future.  But my heart aches for the world's present.

What I CAN Control

Sometimes this world offers us a situation that rocks our world because evil has shown it's face, and we struggle knowing we have very little power to keep it from showing it's face again.

The knowledge that some madmen shot and killed 20 precious little kids last Friday in Connecticut is devastating.   Yesterday at work, I was browsing some news articles during a quiet moment, and clicked into an interview of one of the little girl's parents.  How I thought I could handle that, I don't know, but the next thing I knew I was in the bathroom unable to stop crying.  Reading about a parents worst nightmare come true will do that to a lot of people. 

This situation immediately brought up the debate of gun control.  I don't have strong opinions about the matter.  But, my life has taught me a few lessons concerning guns that I implement into my own life. 

Being raised in Montana has put me in close personal contact with a lot of hard core hunters.  I was raised in a house that had lots of rifles, and other guns.  My parents always had a giant handgun that Dad kept under his side of the bed.  As a child, unbeknownst to my parents, I always knew about that gun. I used to go lay on the floor by their bed and take it out to examine.  It wasn't like they hadn't talked to me about the dangers of guns; they had.  I knew I was forbidden from even touching the hunting rifles that they kept downstairs.  But I was very curious about the forbidden and hidden hand gun under the bed.  I remember holding my finger on the trigger, but I never had the guts to actually pull it.  It probably wasn't loaded, but it just demonstrates how easily something could happen when a gun is in the house.

When I was about six, I used to play with the grandchildren of a lady who owned the little cafe in Paradise; a litte boy and girl about my brother and my ages.  I wasn't super close with them or anything, but if I was out wandering through Paradise looking for an adventure (at six I'm pretty sure I wasn't "allowed" to just wander either, but I did pretty often- consequences always waiting for me when I returned) and they were out, I would play with them.  One day I overheard my parents talking about the grandchildren at the cafe.  The little boy had been playing with a gun and accidentally shot and killed his sister.

As I grew up, there were other times I heard about kids playing with guns and having horrible consequences.

I went to hunters safety when I was around fourteen; sort of a rite of passage for all Montana kids.  Even though I was never to be a hunter (I have never shot a gun at anything more than a beer bottle, not for any bad feelings about guns but because I don't like the taste of wild game, or any red meat for that matter), I at least learned to really respect guns.  As far as having guns for hunting, I have nothing against it.  Every year I do hear about hunting accidents where someone has been accidentally shot, but to me that adds up to there is some risk to almost any activity, and a hunter has made the conscious decision and decided the risk was worth it.

When I see people talking about their "rights" to bear arms, it usually has nothing to do with hunting.  It is always toted as self-defense against the bad guys.  The thing is, in all of my 36 years, I have rarely heard of a bad guy getting shot by the good guy in a moment of self-defense.  I have, on the other hand, heard of lots of innocent people being accidentally shot by their own (or their parents) guns.

I have absolutely NO IDEA why anyone would need an assault rifle.  The mother of the guy who shot all of the kids actually ENCOURAGED him to practice shooting her guns at a shooting range because she thought it was good for him to handle something that "required so much respect".  It wasn't in SPITE of his mental instability that she did this, it was BECAUSE of his mental instability that she chose to do this.  As some sort of mental and emotional therapy.  Okay, where was the disconnect between her brain cells in this situation? 

Personally, I hate guns.  As an adult and a parent, I have never wanted them in my house.  Derrick "inherited" a hand gun from his brother, but it stays locked up in a safe where my kids will never be tempted to touch it.  It DOES have a purpose for us, however.  We take it with us whenever we go on our long hikes in the mountains of Montana.  But it is a weighed decision of what danger to us is greater, the bears or the gun.  I'd rather never have that gun with us, but I'd also rather not be eaten by a bear.  So, obviously there are times when guns are good for self-protection.

When my kids are old enough, I want both of them to take hunters safety.  I don't know if either of them will ever choose to be hunters, but I feel the same way about hunters safety as I do about swimming lessons.  I want them to have the knowledge it takes to keep themselves and others safe (as far as they can help it).  I may not be able to control other people's opinion about how to manage gun safety, but I can control my attitude towards it, and also help my children know HOW to be safe around guns. 

Do I think there should be government enforced gun control?  This article talks about other countries who have used different gun control tactics with good results.  Evil isn't so easy to control, but making tools of mass destruction harder to come by would be a good start.  It isn't the permanent solution, but it would add a little more safety in the meantime.

It was hard sending the kids to school yesterday and today.  It is a knee jerk reaction to never send them to public school again, and to start them in home school.  I may actually decide to home school my kids someday, but if I do, it's not going to be a fear based decision. 

When I go to the mall or the movies, I always try to find escape exits and I scan the crowd looking for weirdos.  But I am not going to stop going to those public places. 

My job makes me nervous these days as well.  Yesterday, a guy came in and stood at my counter.  He held his hands below the counter awkwardly, and I kept waiting for him to put them where I could see them. It scared me; I completely visualized a hidden gun.  I work at a government funded office, and because of the nature of our programs and the help they offer, the people who walk through those doors are not always mentally or emotionally well.  Also, people don't always get the financial help that they think they deserve in some of our other programs.  We have all dealt with angry (and unbalanced) people there. We have a protocol to follow if anyone ever comes in to cause mayhem; hopefully it would help most people stay safe.  However, I am at the front desk.  But I am still going to go to work there. 

Every day I have a choice.  I can choose to live every day in fear and let my world get smaller and smaller or I can choose to LIVE in spite of the danger.  I hope I always choose to really live, even knowing that this world comes with no guarantees of safety.

One Year Ago Today

He Will Call 

Job 14:13-15 (Song 111)

Life, like a mist, appears for just a day,

Then disappears tomorrow.

All that we are can quickly fade away,

Replaced with tears and sorrow.

If a man should die, can he live again?

Hear the promise God has made:

He will call; the dead will answer.

They shall live at his command.

For he will have a longing

for the work of his own hand.

So have faith, and do not wonder,

for our God can make us stand.

And we shall live forever,

As the work of his own hand.

Friends of our God, though they may pass away,

Will never be forsaken.

All those asleep who in God's memory stay,

From death he will awaken.

Then we'll come to see all that life can be:  Paradise eternally.



Art by Kloe



"Paradise" Past

Paradise Past

"Many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices."~William James


"It isn't what they say about you, it's what they whisper."~Errol Flynn


“Some people brighten a room by entering it; others, by leaving it.” Lynn Rios

Part of why I feel so verbally congested is that there is so much I'd love to scream out to the world, to just blast it out there, and yet to put it out there is to open myself up to another world of hurt. I am beyond frustrated with a world that is willing to judge me based on preconceptions rather than looking deeper into a history that should scream to truth to everyone.

I've heard comments made about how sad it is that people are so quick to criticize others with addiction problems. I have a very big problem when people say things like that. The people I know who may "criticize" someone with an addiction, are very rarely "quick" to do so. Most the time if you have had someone with an addiction in your life, you have fought for that person for YEARS. You have been through their ups, praying that they can hold it together this time, only to come crashing down with them. You have begged for them to make different choices, you have tried to love them through it, to believe in them and hold their hand. You have lent them money, you have let them live with you, talked your own employer to give them a chance only to later feel completely used and embarrassed. You have watched them lie to your parents over and over, saying anything to get more money out of them even when your parents are on a fixed income and barely able to make it anyways. You have watched your mother worry for years, the stress making her sick. And then you get to watch the person with the addiction sit back and blame everyone else for how crappy his life is. It is now YOUR fault, because you had the audacity to finally say enough is enough.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

A lifetime of these people with addictions and zero personal responsibility causing myself and all the people I love pain, destroying themselves and anyone near them, and yes, I am done. I don't care if people think I am self-righteous and judgemental. If anyone is more interested in listening to the addicted person's 'wha wha' story instead of looking at the trail of destruction BLAZING behind that person, then I don't need that person in my life either.

Just know this: The people who came before you in the addict's life DID care. They did all they could to save the person you think you will be able to save with your love. But the problem was never that there wasn't enough love in the addicted ones life, it was that he loved his addiction more than he loved the people who loved him.

The truth is, I have had to make choices in my own life about addictions too. I could have chose to self-medicate my life away. I could have decided to live a life completely against everything my parents ever told me was important and true. I could have done things that made my mom cry and then drank until I didn't feel guilty about it anymore. And it did take me awhile to point my finger at myself and make the changes I needed to make to not let that poison infect my life like I'd seen it infect others.


Life is nothing but a string of choices.

Well, then addiction is a disease, right? No one chooses to get a disease. No one chooses to get diabetes either. But what about the choice to sit there and eat sugar until you die? You have to choose to live. You choose to not eat the sugar. And at least the sugar doesn't make you use and hurt everyone in your life so much that eventually there is nothing left.

This world believes in something called "tough love". I've been part of a family with issues of alcoholism for so long, words like "co-dependency" and "enabling" are completely understood. The only thing that ever protected my family from the the pull of enabling our addicted members was being part of an organization that practiced tough love when it got to the point where the addiction was so out there (DUI's in the newspaper, outlandish behavior) that it had to be addressed. Even then, help was extended first. Help has always been extended, from friends, family, all hands reached out with help. But what do you do when the addiction means more than all the love and help in the world? You protect yourself. Finally, you protect yourself.

When the addicted goes off and starts another life with a new host to feed the addiction, but keeps the addiction, do you quit protecting yourself? No. A lifetime of experience says NO. As long as the addiction is active, it's like poison just waiting to infect you and your life.

I am angry. I am hurt that people who should have the brains to ask me really important questions, haven't. People should be able to look at my sister and I, and see how much we love our parents, and that we have always and will always do anything we can to help them. We respect them. We cared for Mom all through her darkest years, and we fought for her with every single ounce of love we carry for her in our hearts. She was our best friend, a huge and essential part of our lives. Everything that ever hurt her, hurt us too.

Sometimes I think it may have hurt us more- it's a hard thing to watch someone you love get hurt repeatedly by the same person or people. It builds up in a person. To see a person you love hurt, and disrespected is almost unbearable, but when you have addicts hanging around, you get to experience it over and over. I am unwilling and unable to act as if there is no damage and that what has happened never really happened.

I am done.

Party-Pooper

Soooo.  I am sitting here, all by my lonesome.  Everyone else is at a wedding reception, friends and family alike.  I'm feeling a little bad about not going.  I didn't feel like it... I know *LAME*

I am so introverted sometimes.  It goes beyond introversion actually.  Sometimes the thought of being around large groups of people is SO overwhelming to me.  I very seldom actually look forward to going to a party. Even when I will know a lot of people at a party (like tonight), I still don't ever really just *want* to go. 

The funny thing is that I did get ready to go to it.  I put on a cute dress, I curled my hair and did my make up with more than the usual care...  I was completely ready to go.  Then as we got closer to the kingdom hall, I just *did not* want to go in.  There were so many cars- I knew it was going to be packed in there.  So, instead Derrick and I messed around in town for a little while, and then went home.  We were planning on going to the reception, but then I didn't go to that either.  Derrick went- I just stayed home by myself.  A lot of times I will go if it's the only way that the kids will get to go, but they were able to have fun without my presence today.

*Sigh*

On the bright side, I did get most of my laundry done.  My house is super clean.  I got to eat ice cream, watermelon and pop corn for dinner, since I was the only one here.  I watched a new documentary about the wealthy in America. 

Oh well.  Someday I might develop the coolness it takes to go to parties.

Crying

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later and then you still have to decide what to do.”

 C.S. Lewis quote

 

One of those days

I'm not doing so good today.  I guess it's to be expected, this is usually around the time (during a month) when I start feeling everything more.  I think women are made this way because we need to be able to process what life deals us, but if we always felt everything this intensely we wouldn't be able to function ever.

Didn't go to work today. Still in my pajamas on the couch (at 12:30 in the afternoon).  Since I'm already in "that" place, I decided to work on Mom's slideshow today.  I've been trying to figure out how to get it on a disc to send out to relatives for awhile.  This was the first time I tried to with my new laptop, and it actually worked.  Sweet success- and one less thing hanging over my head!  That slideshow is a killer though.  I feel like a limp wrung out dishrag.  I hadn't watched it since the funeral, and it hasn't lost any of it's emotional impact.  At least today wasn't a total loss now- even if I've done nothing else, I did the slideshow.



My favorite pic of my momma and I (from the slideshow)taken right after my great niece
(and Mom's great grand-daughter) Aiyana was born.  Happy tears that day.



Meh, Some Running Chat, and Priorities. Then Back to Meh.

~Sitting here, with some major writer’s block. Watching some Friends, drinking some coffee. Gonna get some more coffee here in a minute. And then maybe some more. It was hard to wake up this morning. I would have gratefully slept for at least a couple more hours.
~Yesterday was one of the harder ones. Life goes on, whether or not you are sad. This day is better already.  With that being said, it was still at least a productive day- service in the morning, work and then meeting that night.  I'm happy about that- fighting through moods to still be productive is a step forward for me.
~I’ve ran twice this week, and plan on running today and once this weekend. I’m only going two miles at a time right now because: 1) My two week sojourn to my couch has left lingering whispers in my body- they must be exorcised slowly lest the couch wins the battle (of my heart) over the treadmill. 2) Regardless of any appreciation I have for the treadmill… it is a treadmill. Two treadmill miles equal four outside (well, mentally and emotionally anyways). 3) I am just going for consistency at this point. As soon as it clears up and outside is an option again, I’ll up the mileage.
~I was thinking about the local marathon this summer, but we found out our district assembly is the same weekend as the marathon. I’ll just have to find a different run to try this summer.
~I need to work on my priority list anyway. Between running stuff, travel stuff, family stuff, hobby stuff (all of which are very important to me)(this is where I should also add photography stuff*can't believe I forgot that!*, and um housework and grocery shopping stuff.  Haha:), it can be a little too easy to not stay as focused on the most important of all spiritual stuff. It is so hard to be balanced!! I’m sure that it will always be that way. It must just be a human thing.
~That is about it for this morning.  My brain no so good at the moment.  Maybe the running will shake some life back into it.

pri·or·i·ty
/praɪˈɔrɪti, -ˈɒr-/[prahy-awr-i-tee]   noun

1.the state or quality of being earlier in time, occurrence, etc.

2.the right to precede others in order, rank, privilege, etc.; precedence.

3.the right to take precedence in obtaining certain supplies, services, facilities, etc., esp. during a shortage.

4.something given special attention.–adjective

5.highest or higher in importance, rank, privilege, etc.: a priority task.

Happy-ness

Sometimes I read through this blog and it makes me feel bad to see the happy stuff. It's been only 2 months since Mom died. If my life were different, if I didn't have my family, these two babies who depend on me to make their world turn...

...but that isn't even true...   the truth is, I just don't want to live in that dark place being swallowed up by sadness- it hurts too bad. So many people I know have died or lost loved ones this year. Mothers, fathers, sons, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, teachers, mentors, friends.... Life keeps going forward to everyone left behind. There's a whole history of humankind who've all died in the end, no matter what their story was.

 I don't know what my point is here... Except I have want to be here now- I am alive, and I want to be alive. The real choice is HOW I am going to be alive. I can't choose the dark place and still live my life. The only way to move forward is toward the light, and that means allowing, no fighting for, happiness.

I know I will see my Mom again... Time doesn't exist for her right now, but someday she will want to know that I did the best I could with my life. I want to tell her that I missed her horribly every single second she wasn't with me, but that I was still able to be happy and that I made a happy life for my family.

It will get better

I should not be allowed to be around people today.   My short-term memory is non-existent, my verbal filter is letting "facts" be released that don't quite make it very high on the accuracy scale.  My ability to retain anything today without inserting my own weirdness into it is just not there.

Darn you office stapler that I am unable to fix today.  Next week when my brain works again, you will submit to me!!!

This has been a weird week.  I posted in here on Wednesday about being sad that day, but then I deleted it.  I hate being a Debbie-downer.  I fight sadness pretty hard through trying to control what I think about, running (which hasn't been enough), and what I eat (which was a ton Nutella). With all that being said,  I was a WRECK on Wednesday.  I stayed home from service, work, and meeting that day.  My day was spent divided between crying (the first session which Derrick was there to hug me through.  Love that man so much), laundry, crying, trying to work through some health insurance stuff I'm working on for the kids, crying, going through my kids baby books... eating Nutella, popcorn and drinking tea, crying, and finally crashing on the couch with a book for the rest of the day.  It all started the night before, I had so many dreams of my mom that night.  I woke up eventually around three and then the ever dreaded thinking started, the regrets, the being mad at both of us for not being the perfect daughter or the perfect mother, missing her and then just my general frustration with myself.  Wednesday sorta helped purge all of that.  Renae and I were texting through the day- that always helps:)

Thursday was back to work time.  One of my favorite quotes from a movie is  "You gotta be rich to be insane. Losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle class."  Sooo true (although I have to say, the people at my work have been awesome- the pressure is from myself, not the job).  So I went to work (although I looked*and still look*crapalicous), arrived late, stumbled through the day without any major mishaps, left late, and went home.  Real life just doesn't stop.  I talked to Tara on the phone for a couple hours last night- such an awesome phone call.  Friends (and sisters) are the best pick-me-up of all.

Just need to finish getting through this day.  So far my biggest hang-up has been that rotten stapler.  This weekend includes a going away party and a funeral.  Maybe after the funeral, some of the stress will let up.  I'm ready to feel good again, okay?

Loss

I (and a lot of other people) lost a very special person yesterday in a car accident. It was a personal loss to me because this man has been there for me these last couple of years, helping me figure out some things that very well could have permanently altered my life in a negative way if I hadn't have changed them. Because of his own life experience, and his ability to use the bible in a way that could reach both my mind and heart, his words sunk in. They have stuck with me in such a way that it is his voice I hear whenever I am tempted to revisit self-destruction. I can't believe that he is gone. He was one of those pillars that you expect to be there for a lifetime for you to lean on... I wish that I had told him again how much I appreciated everything he had done for me and how much I loved him. One thing that I have been holding dear to my heart is that one of the last times that we talked he told me that he was proud of me. That meant a great deal to me. I will have to hold on to that, and also hold the same things that reassure me about my mom- time doesn't exist for them now, they are safe in Jehovah's memory, and the next thing they know they'll be waking up in the Paradise.

Holding It Together

No one can bring you peace but yourself. -Emerson

I feel bad today.  I've felt bad  off and on this week. I've tried to think of what anyone else could say or do that would make me feel better, and there just isn't anything.  I can't even define the feeling.  It's a mix between:

sad

adj. sad·der, sad·dest

1. Affected or characterized by sorrow or unhappiness.

2. Expressive of sorrow or unhappiness.

3. Causing sorrow or gloom; depressing: a sad movie; sad news.

4. Deplorable; sorry: a sad state of affairs; a sad excuse.

5. Dark-hued; somber.

need·y

adj. need·i·er, need·i·est

1. Being in need; impoverished.

2. Wanting or needing affection, attention, or reassurance, especially to an excessive degree.

rest·less

adj.1. Marked by a lack of quiet, repose, or rest: spent a restless night.

2. Not able to rest, relax, or be still: a restless child.

3. Never still or motionless: the restless sea..

an·gry

adj. an·gri·er, an·gri·est

1. Feeling or showing anger; incensed or enraged: angry at a rude neighbor; angry with a salesclerk.

2. Indicative of or resulting from anger: an angry silence.

3. Having a menacing aspect; threatening: angry clouds on the horizon.

4. Chiefly New England & Midland U.S. Inflamed and painful: an angry sore.

In Response to the above feelings, I am now going to think of:

Things that make me feel good-

cook·ies also cook·ys  (kk)

n. pl. cook·ies

A small, usually flat and crisp cake made from sweetened dough.

choc·o·late  (chôk-lt, chôklt, chk-)

n.Fermented, roasted, shelled, and ground cacao seeds, often combined with a sweetener or flavoring agent.

My kids (MI kds)

n.a. My children.

b. MY young persons.

Slang Pal. Used as a term of familiar address, especially for a young person: Hi, kids! What's up?

run·ning  (rnng)

n.1. The act or an instance of running.

2. The power or ability to run.

3. Sports The exercise or sport of someone who runs.

shop·ping

v.intr.

1. To visit stores in search of merchandise or bargains.

2. To look for something with the intention of acquiring it.

trav·el  (trvl)

v. To go from one place to another, as on a trip; journey.

pho·tog·ra·phy  (f-tgr-f)

n.1. The art or process of producing images of objects on photosensitive surfaces.

2. The art, practice, or occupation of taking and printing photographs.

3. A body of photographs.

friends  (frnds)

n.1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.

3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

One of the things I miss most about mom is how I'd just have to think about calling her, and my phone would ring... She'd be calling me. It was funny- half of the time Renae would be trying to call too, like we'd all decided we needed to talk at the same moment. I talked to my mom almost every day of my life... Even if it was just a thirty second phone call to say hi and I love you. I miss her.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Mom's Obituary

We lost our very dear wife, mother, grandmother, sister and friend at the age of 71 on October 18th, after a four year battle with cancer.  She fought courageously, and refused to let cancer define her or take over her life.  Through it all, she remained the same kind, loving, supportive and beautiful woman we have always known.

Patsy was born February 7, 1939 in Paradise, to Ruby and Charles.  She was the third of six siblings.  She was a true Paradise child, swimming in the river, riding bikes, and spending her days with siblings, relatives and friends in the tight-knit community that Paradise was in those years.  She grew into a fun-loving teenager who could play both guitar and piano.  She met the love of her life, William, when she was 17 and soon married him in December of 1956.  They made their home in Paradise where they first raised their four older children (Lonnie, Danny, Daryn and Renae) and then their two younger children (Rachel and Shaun).  Their house was always full of love and laughter, music, friends and family.  On July 31, 1971 after studying the bible with Jehovah’s Witnesses, Patsy dedicated her life to Jehovah and was baptized.  She spent the rest of her life serving her God and one of her greatest joys was sharing the hope she’d found with others.  She believed with all her heart in the resurrection described in John 5:28,29 where it says: “.. the hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out…”  This hope along with the assurance of living forever on a paradise earth with her family and friends brought her great comfort.  (Ps. 37:29- “The righteous themselves will possess the earth, and they will reside forever upon it.”) Patsy was a member of the Thompson Falls Congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Some memorable things about Patsy include her extreme kindness to family, friends and strangers alike.  She always believed the best in all of us and helped us to believe in it too.  She never gave up on us, even when we struggled.  She was always there to celebrate with us during good times, and hold our hand through hard times. 

She was so brave!  When she believed in something she didn’t hesitate to go against the crowd and say out loud (in a kind way) how she felt.  She always did what she knew was right and true even if it meant standing apart.  She approached everyone she met as a friend she just hadn’t met yet.  She was  loved by so many.  Just by her example alone she affected so many lives in powerful, positive ways.  Not just of the people who witnessed her and changed their lives based on her example and hope, but also their children and families.

We will miss her spiritedness and playfulness.  No one loved to play cards (and WIN!) as much as Patsy.  She was passionate about shoes and had many of them.  No one had a better sense of humor; she loved to laugh.  She was truly pure at heart.  She told us all how much she loved us every chance she had.  We never had any doubt about how much we were loved; she made sure of it.

She gave us a powerful legacy to live up to.  Our lives will never be the same again without her.  We ache for the day when we get to see her again, when she will be healthy and will be restored to youthfulness.(Job 33:25;  Rev. 21:3,4)

Mom died at 1:10 yesterday afternoon. I was at work when Renae called me with the news. I had just talked to Mom and told her I loved her minutes before she died. She could only breathe hard into the phone in response, but I choose to believe she heard me.
My co-workers have been so wonderful throughout this. Finding out at work was not what I wanted or anticipated. Cindy (other clerical support gal) was in the bathroom instantly with me, hugging me and telling me to just grab my stuff and head out. So, I went home, Derrick and I grabbed a couple things, and we left for Plains.
Walking in to my parent's living room and seeing my mom's body was so surreal. I will never beable to forget it. But at least she looked so much more at peace than she did the last time I saw her. All of us women, sisters, daughters, granddaughter took turns putting make-up on her, fixed her hair, put ear rings back on her. She looked like mom again when we were through- as beautiful as ever. I was glad when Dave made it in time with my kids too, so they could see her one more time in her home without the pain on her face. It was very hard for all of us when the man from the mortuary came and they put her in the bag and took her from the home. Just when I thought it couldn't get any more real.
We are having a viewing of the body on Wednesday. We still need to write an obituary... Steph and I want to make a slideshow for after her funeral, which is going to be on Saturday. In the meantime... I guess the main thing is to keep breathing.
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She's gone.

I guess falling down an abyss wouldn't feel like much either until you hit the bottom.
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Cancer means... Watching her die in slow motion. Wondering about why I feel so cold and detached. Scared that it is going to end. Seeing every loved one's face strained and stressed as they walk through the door and see her again- even if it's only been a day. Watching her cheekbones show more and more, and her eyes opened up to somewhere else, not here. Seeing her only communication become little blinks when she pulls herself enough back to us to answer anything. Moments left being measured in days, hours, and breaths. Every goodbye is the forever from this side kind.