The Final Journey With My Husband

Part One-

   I remember all of my feelings while my husband lay dying, and on the day of his death, as if it were yesterday. How can one ever forget?

  We found out 2 weeks before his death that Erick had leukemia; it definitely took us off-guard. In hind sight, there were plenty of warning signs that we failed to notice. Why would we ever suspect that our husband and father, not yet 50-years-old, would leave us so soon? Our babies (twins) were only 2. Our nine children needed their daddy. Life wasn't perfect, but we had plans and expectations, the normal path that most families assume. Never, in our wildest dreams, did we expect a challenge of this magnitude.

   Many times throughout our marriage Erick told me that he had achieved everything that he'd ever set out to do, accomplished all of his goals, so he would welcome death. I knew this was not true; no one really wants to die, at least most of us don't. And who, really, wants to leave their young, growing family? What about growing old together, children's marriages, and grandchildren?

   One year after Erick died, another significant person died in my life. We had moved Al Sarratt from California to Wyoming to be near us. She lived in our home nearly a year while her new home was built. It was fun helping her design the floor plan, and though it wasn't very big, it was perfect for her. Eventually she was overcome by colon cancer and died within her home while I took care of her. At 87-years-old, on her death bed and barely able to speak, Al said, "Lynney, no one really wants to die." I told her that I believed her.

   The night before Erick was sent to Billings, he had a frightening headache. Tommy was home alone with his dad and I had the other children with me while running Al to the SLC airport the day before. When I arrived back home this same evening, Erick looked very worried. Through blood tests they discovered that his white blood cell count was the highest ever recorded at Powell Hospital; they sent him home but told they would call the next morning with more results. Erick said, "Lynne, what could it be?" I sensed that he was afraid. On this same night he told me that his father and grandfather, whom had died a few years earlier, had visited him the last time he attended the temple. He said he felt their presence as strongly as if they were both sitting on each side of him.

   The doctor called very early the next morning and told us to pack a suitcase and head to Billings. He was trying to be gentle, but at the same time wanting us to realize the probable seriousness of the situation. We took our toddler twins with us, and it was obvious while waiting in the Billings doctor's office that Erick was miserable. The twins and I stayed in the waiting room so our babies weren't in the way while Erick had more tests. After an hour, or so, they confirmed that he did, in fact, have leukemia and would needto be hospitalized immediately. Erick never returned home.

Part Two-

   (It has taken me a few days to regroup after writing about some of the events leading up to my husband's death. It was not an easy time and most of the memories are still very tender and fresh in my heart and mind.)

   After the doctor appointment we drove directly to the hospital. More tests were run, and the doctor at the hospital reassured us that out of all the leukemia's to develop, Erick's was the better type since his prognosis had a higher percentage rate of remission. Erick noticeably slumped in his chair with great relief after hearing this. I couldn't help but think, there's a best type of leukemia? 

   Erick was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia (AML) which needed treatment right away (leukemia is a type of blood and bone marrow cancer). The goal of treatment, obviously, was to bring about a remission. Since Erick was otherwise healthy and fairly young, an aggressive treatment plan involved chemotherapy. If this did not work, they would try a bone marrow transplant and Erick's brother, Robert, was a match.

   After the first round of induction chemotherapy, which was very intense, Erick's leukemia only got worse. This was surreal, we had no clue there was anything wrong before this emergency situation, then here we are, in an immediate, unexpected life-changing situation. Looking back over the past 3 months, how could we have missed so many warning signs? 

   Erick would come home from work, lie on our bedroom floor and prop his legs up over the bed to give his hips relief. Then he started having bloody noses that would last for a couple of hours; not a lot of blood, but they were frequent.These started occurring a couple of weeks before the emergency room incident. Why didn't we put two-and-two together? Also within this two-week time frame, a huge bruise showed up on Erick's chest. It was a Saturday and we were doing yard work, moving branches and raking leaves, etc., and by the end of this day Erick has this big bruise we figured was from getting thumped by a tree branch or from hauling wood in his arms.

   I remember driving through the streets of Powell about 3 months prior to Erick's death, feeling grateful for my family, for my life, thankful for the good children we had, and feeling blessed to have our baby twins, grateful for a husband who provided for us. Erick and I had some marital challenges but I knew this was where I wanted to be and was supposed to be. Then came a voice from within, "Lynne, this could all change tomorrow." I realized this was true but it did not hinder my elated, peaceful feelings right then, and it was a powerful message that would, surprisingly, bring me comfort down the road. 

Part Three-

   I cannot remember the doctor's name, but I really liked him. He was informative, compassionate, and quick to attend to both Erick and I. You could say that he had a good bedside manner and his presence was very comforting. I presently have 3 boys who are headed into the medical field and I hope they realize how important it is to develop sensitivity and compassion towards patients, as this part of medicine is just as important as all other aspects of the field, if not most important at times.

   After the chemo, Erick was very sick and did not want to get out of bed. I encouraged him to get up and move a bit in hopes of a better outcome, the doctor said it couldn't hurt. By this point Erick had blood in his urine. He would get up at least once each day and walk for 5 to 10 minutes around in the hospital corridor. We invited Alyce to play cards with us, and he tried putting a plastic model car together; Erick also tried to look over business papers but I encouraged him not to worry about work, just to work at getting well.

   Visitors would come and go but Erick did not want to see them, he did not have the energy or desire; under normal circumstances he was very social. I put a stop to visitors, to protect his wishes. Lots of people sent cards and flowers and tried to visit. Actually, Erick did not want outside family to visit either. Other than to see his children for short periods of time, he only wanted me in his room and he did not want me to leave at all. He moved a reclining chair close to his bed in hopes that I would sleep next to him. I stayed by his beside as much as possible, but eventually hospital staff encouraged me to get more rest, expressing concern about my health, so I slept in an apartment near the hospital, which was donated for use by one of my mom's friends from St. Louis. I would leave late and come back early. Once Robert arrived he stayed with Erick a couple of nights when I wasn't there. My mom, Erick's mom, Erick's brother, Wayne, and Robert used this apartment, too.

   Jodie and Susan helped care for our children at home in Powell while I stayed with Erick in Billings, and lots of people supported our family with meals and rides and other services. It truly felt like the whole town wanted to give us support and love. We understood that many, even manypeople we didn't personally know, were praying and fasting for Erick and our family. Our children's teachers kept a closer eye on our children. 

   At the end of the first week of Erick's hospitalization, I felt I should make a quick run to Powell to check on our children and to return a vacuum I had borrowed from Al; I had promised to return it soon and didn't want to upset her. The night before, I told Erick I wanted to make this quick trip and that I would leave early and return by noon. He did not want me to go but I figured I could run there and back before he'd hardly miss me. When I think back on this decision I wonder about it. Erick was afraid and he needed me there. I did not leave him again. 

   I was only in Powell for about 20 minutes, long enough to hug the kids (which I needed) and return Al's vacuum.While I was gone during this short span of time, Erick tried to read, but the words were a jumbled mess. When the nurse came into his room, she couldn't understand his speech, it was a garbled mess. By the time I returned, Erick was in x-ray. I sensed Erick's relief once I was by his side, and I held a pan under his chin as he threw up a lot of blood. I felt horrified that this was happening, but did not show it, and I knew Erick knew he was in big trouble. The energy in the room was very tense, and as I noticed the expressions on the tech staff it was obvious this was a bad situation. They discovered a blood clot in Erick's brain about the size of a dime and this was cause for grave concern. Erick was immediately moved into the ICU unit, from which he never left.

Part Four-

   Never in a million years did I think we would be staring the possibility of death smack in the face at this stage in life.  After all, we are a team, we have a beautiful family, and we will raise our nine children together as it should be. So why oh why are we faced with this now? I know, it’s just a little bump in the road, and certainly everything will be okay in the end. Having to endure complications and challenges makes us stronger and more appreciative of our blessings, and we will grow from this experience and triumph in the end. 

   And besides all of that, there must be something to growing old together. We learn life lessons, we mellow, we accept each other's flaws, we become more aware of the little things that makes our spouse great; we gain wisdom in our priorities and perspectives, right? We progress together, we learn to love more deeply. We grow comfortable with each other, we take each other for granted ... we assume there will be a natural order to our family life.

   So here he was, my Erick, laying in the ICU unit, a cubicle. Room enough for a bed and some rolling equipment, room to sit next to my husband with curtains drawn as our attempt to privacy. I remember the hustle-bustle of hospital activity, the sounds of hospital equipment, the sterile smells, completely void of a familiar coziness like being at home.

    As a family we opted for brain surgery in hopes of lessening the damage from the aneurysm. The doctor was doubtful, but trying to be optimistic and understanding our situation, he agreed that he, also, would choose the surgery if he had to make this same decision for his brother.

   After surgery, Erick's cranial pressure became dangerously high. To try to relieve some of this, plastic tubes (or shunts) were inserted through his cranium to hopefully relieve this pressure. His body temperature was unbelievably high. It was not a calming sight to see my husband laying there with tubes shooting up out of his bald head. He was hooked up to a catheter, which he did not like. He was naked except for a hand towel over his groin.

   Erick had always had a thick head of hair. He mentioned, many times, that he was thankful his hair was turning white at a younger age rather than going bald. He lost some of his hair after chemotherapy, and the remainder was shaved off before surgery. Erick was also a very modest man. There is no doubt in my mind that he would be bothered by his nakedness as outside family came in and out.

   The medical team rolled Erick out of surgery and back into the little ICU cubicle. His head was bandaged in white cloth and there was no movement. He looked so vulnerable. Erick had dropped many pounds very fast. Ever since he'd entered the hospital, for the most part, he'd only been fed intravenously.

   About 3 months before Erick got to this point, he and I had gone to visit a lady in her home. For some reason, I don't remember why, our conversation turned to opinions about life support. I remember feeling very upset at both of them and, actually, couldn't believe what they were saying. Erick stated that he thought life support was of the devil, and this other lady felt the same way. I said that it could be a blessing because lives have been saved to go forward and live many more productive years. Of course there are a few exceptions, but generally, I consider it one of our modern miracles.

   Little did I realize the role this conversation would play in my heart a couple of short months later.

Part Five-

   On the second or third day after entering the hospital, Erick was asked to assign someone to make his medical decisions in case he became incapacitated to do so for himself. This was an uncomfortable matter for him to face, the thought that he might get to this point. He wanted me to have full authority to make these decisions for him, whether or not to use life support, etc.

   This was not an easy conversation between us, but I was thankful that Erick trusted me with this authority because I knew that I would fight for his life, yet respect his wishes about life support. I knew that I would know what to do, and be strong enough to make hard decisions, if necessary, with Heavenly Father's help. At the same time, Erick also told me that if anything happened, to contact an accountant, named James, he knew would want to buy his business.

   During this first week our children came to visit him. They were happy to see him and Erick was happy to see them, but it was a painful reminder for Erick. He was scared and did not want to leave his family behind, and I knew he sensed the seriousness of his situation. The children were not allowed to stay too long because Erick was so sick.

   While our children were in the hospital room with us it was as if my spirit became a little disconnected from my body; as if I was peeking in on a separated view of our children surrounding Erick, feeling the internal emotions of each family member. I will make an attempt to explain this at a later time, but it was a powerful few minutes of realization.

   (One of the beauties of technology, and journaling online, is that I can come back to my posts and rephrase very easily. I will do this on the paragraph above as I find ways to communicate my memories and thoughts more clearly.)

   At this time, Nathan was on his mission in Argentina. Emrie had barely started her first year of college at BYU. Tommy was the oldest child still at home and he was in his junior year of high school.

   I will write more about all of this in a few days. I am writing about this in several parts because it is painful to go back to this time period. Like I've said before, it's as if it were yesterday. However, I also realize, for whatever reasons, it's important to write about this.

Part Six-
   As mentioned before, after the development of the brain clot, Erick was taken into surgery and then to the ICU unit. A neural surgeon assessed the outcome of this procedure through several little tests and by asking Erick simple questions.

   The doctor, pointing to the clock, "Erick what is that?" Erick could understand what the doctor asked but his response was gibberish. The doctor pointed to several items- a pencil, the lights, his foot, his finger, about 12 different objects, and Erick could understand but couldn't respond with the correct formation of words, it always sounded like unintelligible gibberish. Then the doctor pointed towards me and asked Erick who I was. Without hesitation, clear as day, and with a strong voice, Erick responded, "My wife!" 

  Throughout Erick's stay at the hospital, several hospital staff tried to get Erick's wedding ring off of his finger. He would tell them to leave it alone and under no persuasion could he be coaxed into taking it off. They were afraid his finger would swell, but Erick would not budge.

   After the neural surgeon assessed Erick's abilities, he expressed some hope that Erick would live. He said that he might not ever do accounting again, but felt that through rehabilitation he could perform minimal tasks. He also might be in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life.

   My thinking after the doctor's evaluation was that I wanted Erick here in any way we could keep him. I would be fine with waiting on him hand and foot for the remainder of his life, just so long as he could still recognize his family and enjoy the progress of his children. Maybe if he wasn't so bogged down from the pressures of work, he'd be able to relax and be happy and healthy despite his physical limitations.

   While Erick was in the ICU, outside family members would come in and out of his cubicle pretty much whenever they felt like it. They had in mind their own approaches to try and "cure" Erick. Several would come in at once and make a bunch of ridiculous noises while laughing and singing, and put a music box on the bed at Erick's head. I sensed by the slight change in expression that he was agitated by this. I realized that he wanted to hear my voice and nothing else. These were his last hours and he didn't want just anyone floating in and out of his room, making a spectacle of themselves to suit their own needs. I'm sure they meant well, but at the time I was feeling extremely protective of Erick and only cared about what I knew Erick wanted. I was grateful when visiting hours ended each day. He had made it clear to me that he wanted only his wife and children surrounding him at this time. I believe he felt comfort when Robert was around him, too, though.

   During this 2nd week, I discerned that Erick would not live. All of the hullabaloo going on around him was appalling to me. I wanted to be alone with my husband and ascertained that if left the decision open for discussion, Erick would be on life support forever. Erick trusted me with this decision. Sometimes it is hard for family to let go, to perceive when it is enough. Although I wanted Erick to live, I did not deceive myself into thinking that he would, and Heavenly Father's Spirit had clearly been preparing my children and I to accept what was to come.

   At some point during this week, Erick was given a priesthood blessing by his brother, Wayne, who commanded Erick to live. I was immediately sickened by these words because I knew, at this point, that Erick would not live. I believe in hope and faith and miracles, but I also know that God knows the bigger picture regarding eternal life and the plan of salvation, and we do not "command" a certain outcome, though we can plead or request for such; I felt it was very presumptuous, though again, I know Wayne meant well. My mother was among those "other" family members at the hospital, and honestly, she was better grounded about the whole situation than any of the others. Mom was supportive and respectful of my decisions and trusted in my inspiration, and cared about my feelings, and was reverent about the whole situation.

   This blessing that Wayne gave really bothered me because afterwards all of these family members had no doubt that Erick would live. The next day I approached Robert and asked, "Robert, do you believe that what other's think would supersede the inspiration the wife strongly feels?" He told me, "no", but didn't say anymore. During the night I dreamed that Erick came to me, very vividly, and told me he was leaving. I will never forget the picture of him in my dream - the most vivid dream I've ever had to this day; the colors were vibrant and the message was clear- Erick was letting go.

   The next day there were lots of smiles and positive attitudes and assurances that all would be well, that Erick was going to pull through without a doubt. Well, why didn't I feel this way? I rarely left Erick's side, and no one could budge me now. I always touched him, his arm or hand. I know that he could hear everything that was going on around him, but he could not communicate. Robert stood on one side of Erick, and I sat on the other side. Robert touched Erick's hand and requested that he give some signal that he could comprehend, there was nothing. I then talked to Erick while holding his left hand and asked him the same, "Erick, can you hear me, can you give me some little movement to let me know?" He moved his fingers in my hand!! I was elated and told him so, and tried to get him to do it again. It was a sign to me of his love for me. He used the last ounce of his strength to give me this little gift, and it was the last acknowledgment he could gift me in this life. As I think about this even at this moment, years later, tears easily flow.

   After Robert left the cubicle, I talked and talked to Erick. Like I said, I knew he could hear every word though he could not give more affirmation that this was true, but I knew it was true. I told Erick that although I did not want him to leave, and that although I wanted to go through this life with him, I could do it alone if I had to; that I would take good care of our children. I told him that I loved him and that his children loved him, and that they would miss him, too, but they would feel assurance of our future reunion. For some reason I felt it necessary to tell him that I would have no more children. I told him that it was okay to let go, to move on, to help prepare the way for when his family reunites with him.

   I got up very early the next morning, as usual, and was determined to catch our doctor before visiting hours. Robert had left the day before to head back to West Plains due to work but planned to come back soon. During the night I had the strong impression that Erick no longer wanted life support. Luckily the doctor was right where I needed him to be this morning. I asked him if I had the right to decide, all on my own, to pull the life support. He vigorously told me "yes", and not only that but said he felt it was cruel to keep Erick on life support any longer because all of his organs were shutting down and that he had to be in pain.

   I desired that no one else participate in this sacred, agonizing event. This was the end of my husband's earthly life and I knew how he felt. If our children were given the choice I didn't think they would want to watch their daddy die, so I requested that no one else be in attendance. The doctor wasted no time in preparations for this to happen. I believe the doctor worried that I was at a breaking point and felt anxious about my emotional/physical health. I had not been eating much during this whole ordeal, and I would rarely leave Erick's side. 

Our last family picture together, November 1997

Part Seven- 

   (Still, as I reread some of these writings, I tear up. It took me several years to work past nightmares about Erick's death. My writings cannot convey all that he went through during the hospital ordeal, or even all that I felt. There are still several parts to this story, and I will continue working on this as I can muster up the strength to face it again.)

   So, here I was, sitting beside my husband, holding his hand, thinking about our children, about this final phase in Erick's earth life; it felt like a heavy, overwhelming, lonely journey, yet I knew I was not alone. I knew that Heavenly Father was not only watching over us, but was with us. Four other people were in the cubicle with me - the doctor, two nurses, and a social worker. The doctor asked if I thought it would bother me to watch as the tubes and the life-support were disconnected. I said "no" because I felt that every avenue had been taken to try and save Erick's life. I knew that Heavenly Father had other plans for our husband and father. But also, I knew that Erick was already gone, he was no longer within this diseased body even though life support said differently. 

   Once life-support was disconnected, Erick's heart stopped beating almost immediately; the life support had been a false illusion of the reality. Once his heart slowed down and was taking its last couple of jumps, I began to cry. I was 'feeling', yet I was so very numb. What happened next, as I look back on it, is incomprehensible and as a social worker, myself, with the training I have received, I will never understand it.

    Me: *crying*

   Social worker: "SHHH!!"

   Me: *suddenly stop crying*

   When it was over, the people in the room said their condolences and left me alone with my husband's body, and that is what it was, Erick's body, not Erick. I sat there, in some level of shock, not knowing what to think or feel, yet realizing that once I left his side, this would be it. I sat next to him for about a half an hour, and then allowed other family members to visit. I don't remember a lot about the reactions of others, but do remember that Erick's mom was very emotional- after all, this is her son, and who wants to lose a child, even a grown child.

   I was barely out of the cubicle when someone from the funeral home showed up. To say the least, I thought it was extremely inappropriate (combined with what the social worker had done). I thought that someone had tipped them off to come and make a sell - they were there immediately upon Erick's death and they were from Powell! How could this happen so fast unless someone tipped them off?

   Another event that happened right away was that Wayne and Robert insisted that I get to the social security office to find out how much money our family would be given. This happened within a couple of hours of Erick's death and I remember riding in a car with them, feeling very numb, not wanting to go, but understanding it was going to happen anyway. When we get the social security office Wayne and Robert waited for me to do the talking! I didn't want to talk! My husband had barely died. I could hardly speak. Some how I managed to

   The events that occurred after this, on this day, are a bit of a haze, but a few things stick out very clearly. One, at some point Tommy was beside me and this was extremely reassuring.
 

   

(rough draft under construction ... )

It's Great to be EIGHT!

Ellyce was the first of my grandchildren to turn 8 years old this year (Feb 12th) . She is such a sweet little girl who has a ready smile. I took Ellyce on a one-on-one birthday date which I enjoyed very much. She chose to go to the movies to see Mr. Peabody and Sherman. She chose Taco Bell for dinner, and Smarties and popcorn for movie treats. Once we arrived back home around 9:30 she went to sleep almost immediately. Ellyce is such a lovely little granddaughter. 

(picture taken while waiting for movie to start)

Miles turned 8 years old yesterday (Mar 21st) and this was his reaction as he read about my gift. He was really cute when he called today and asked if we could go on our little one-on-one date this coming Friday.  3/28/2014 - Miles and I went on our birthday date this evening. He chose to see the The Lego Movie. It was cute listening him laugh throughout the movie. I let him choose treats so he had a Mars bar, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Sprite, and popcorn. I was surprised he could eat so much junk! After the movie he did not want dinner (imagine that!). He had eyed-balled a game at my house before the movie so afterwards we went home and he played it. I sat next to him while he played and then around 8 he was finally a little hungry so I bought him a hamburger to eat as I took him back home. I loved spending this time with my grandson. 

(Once Lincoln turns 8 (Jul 9th), he will be added to this journal entry)

Teenagers.

   The boys are on a 2-week spring break from school. They've been hanging out almost every day/night with friends, or working. Tonight they went to the theater with friends, then to Discovery Park to play outdoor games, and now I am sitting here waiting for them to arrive home from a girl's house, with this same group of friends, where they went to watch a DVD; the life of a teenager! I feel peace about the friends the boys hang out with so I've let them have more freedom over this two-week break. I remind them over and over that my teenagers are much happier when they are upfront and honest about activities and feelings, and don't sneak around.

   I love teenagers, by the way. They are so full of life and drama and passion and a zest for life and high emotion and on and on. I love them! And I will definitely miss mine once they move on in life, which is one of the reasons I'm heading towards a profession (besides needing the money).

   Taylor called tonight and talked about his interview with another of the Big 4 accounting firms- this being his 3rd interview. The first two firms are flying him out for 2nd interviews and he thought he'd get a call-back from today's, too. He talked about Morgan, a girl he likes who is currently on a mission. I suspect he will marry her once she gets home in 9 months, but we will see. He said he can't get her out of his mind; her personality seems ideal for him, plus he tends to favor short, little girls...

   It will be a while longer before I hear back about the scholarship/stipend interview. I feel very torn about this, but I think it's because I have been a homemaker for so many years, and I'm still raising my boys. If I am to move forward in a career, I can't think of another agency I'd rather work for so I hope they accept me. Working with neglected/abused children through family facilitation seems to hit the spot. A clinical therapist makes lots more money but it doesn't seem as appealing. The primary role in child welfare is case management, and I envision constant use of therapies and intervention skills but in a much different setting. I'd love to learn how the court system works with families, too. Just seems like a well-rounded way to learn as much as possible about every aspect of social work and resources within communities.

   My children made my 59th birthday a special day on March 7th. I received phone calls from everyone, and Nathan and Emrie took me out for dinner and then out for a yogurt treat. I enjoyed their company very much. My children gave me many nice gifts. On the Sunday afterwards, Nathan's family dropped in after church with another gift and happy birthday pictures the girls had drawn. Hansan was particularly cute about his gift of tulips. He tried to order flowers by phone and online but didn't realize that he needed a credit card so he asked Emrie for help. She told him that it costs less to pick them up yourself and since he had no transportation she picked some up for him, but he made it clear that he had the money and wanted to pay her back; this made me smile. I truly do have a bunch of very thoughtful children.

  I am having fun with Lyla and Lars here right now (I wrote most of this entry yesterday, btw). They frequently tell me that they are hungry, which reminds me of my little ones. :-)

   OH! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my mom and my grandson, Lincoln!

   P.S. The twins and I drove to Tuscan after they got off work at 4 p.m. Little Jackson is so cute and looks like both Richie and Jena. Jena's milk came in and she's definitely going to be a good little mommy nurser. Richard or Jena's eyes sparkle whenever they look at Jackson with pride, it's so cute and comforting. Richard has been very sick and it sounds like Jena is coming down with it too. Richard asked me to pick up Jena's mom, Susan, from the airport on Sunday. It will be great to catch up with some heart-to-heart with her so I am more than happy to do it. She will be with them for 2 weeks.
   The twins and I didn't get home from Tuscan until midnight so I don't know why I'm up and still writing .... now it's 12:14 a.m., so good night and sleep tight! 

Proud Uncle Hansan. :-) 

 Proud Uncle Dallan. :-) 

St. Patrick's Day Joy

   My oldest son, Nathan, turned 35(!) yesterday, a St. Patrick's Day baby who happens to have green eyes. There was so much joy when he was born. We hoped our first child would be a boy and here he was, safe and sound and beautiful and perfect; of course he was the cutest baby to ever hit earth, and from the very start I felt closely bonded. I remember how rough he was when he rolled around and kicked within me, and I could have sworn he was purposely trying to break my ribs to break out of his cage. My life has never been the same since his birth, and my body has never been the same since that pregnancy.

   And now, at 35, Nathan's personality seems as strong as I felt it was when I was pregnant with him. When he was little he'd throw fits and fall in them (and still does :-), and I had to be a very attentive mom to keep up with my little imp. He was a happy little guy, usually smiling, and typically with a mischievous glint in his eye. He made me smile, and even as a teenager I loved it that he liked spending time talking and going on rides with me.

   When Nathan was about six weeks old I kneeled beside him as he laid on our bed, talking to him as he watched me, intently. I sang and used lots of high and low tones in my voice, for about 20 minutes, trying to get him to coo back to me. He suddenly laughed, and he laughed and laughed; it was incredibly rewarding and very delightful.

   As the young, foolish parent that I was, I assumed that my children would always be well-behaved and not do certain things that those other children did, like throw tantrums, or pick his nose, etc. Nathan would never scream in the grocery store; nope, not MY angelic child. The first 100 times Nathan threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the store, I blamed it on lack of sleep, or that he was hungry. On the umpteenth time this happened, I carried him out to the car, calmly opened the door, purposely placed him inside, locked the door, and walked back inside the store to finish my shopping. If that happened nowadays the police, the fire department, Child Protective Services, the ambulance, and maybe even the president of the United States would intervene and I would be chopped up into tiny little pieces, swallowed, spit out, and thrown into prison for 100 years. Needless to say, though, Nathan never threw a tantrum in a store again! Believe me, I would never handle that situation like this in today's world, and especially not in hot Arizona, but it was quite effective for my  quick-to-learn, little boy.

   To this day, Nathan still gets this well-known impish look on his face, and then wonders where Natalee gets hers- ha! I remember having to muffle many laughs because of his impish tactics. He's been a loyal, true-blue son, and his sincere expressions of love and devotion have made a usually thankless job all better and brighten my spirits.We've had our ups, downs, tiffs and tats, but we can usually gravitate towards a one-on-one place, see beyond each other's faults, and talk through it.

   Nathan has a beautiful little family. Four darling little girls that are as feminine as feminine can be. He and Cindy are going to have loads of fun once my 4 beautiful granddaughters turn into teenagers. Ashlynn is growing up so fast, and is my oldest grandchild at 10 years old. Ellyce was recently baptized; Jillian is a a talker, and is now a little taller than Ellyce; then there's spunky little Natalee. :-)

   Happy birthday, my son. I don't know that you will ever see this post, but, I love you more than you will ever know .... and YES, I DID, go to every soccer, baseball, basketball, and flag football game you ever played in (except for the ones out of town) even though you don't remember! :'(

   Love, Mom

Jackson Erick Jones !

      Big event within our family! Jackson Erick Jones was born on March 15, 2014, weighing in at 8 lbs. 13 oz. and 20 1/2 inches long.

     Emrie and I drove to Tuscan together but took separate cars because I spent the night while Emrie came home. We made it in time to be there just before Jackson was born. 

     Richard and Jena will be good parents. My baby, Richie, now a daddy! 

The Interview

I went for a pretty big-deal scholarship/stipend ($24,000) interview this morning for my MSW which was held at The Department of Economic Security office in downtown Phoenix. I agonized about it all week but didn't feel too nervous during the interview. However, later in the day I was freaking out over how I should have/could have responded differently to interview questions. Why do I fret and worry so much when I know it's in God's hands?

Dallan worked at FlipSlide from 4:00-10:00 p.m. Hansan and I drove over to Emrie's for a little bit, then went to the Taco Bell drive-thru, to Target, then on home to spend this evening together.

If Richard and Jena don't have their baby over the weekend Jena will be induced on Monday. I am so excited! Luckily Richard started a week-long break from medical school today; perfect timing!

There are a lot of March birthdays in our family!

Apron Strings and Blackberries

It won't be long until Hansan and Dallan are old enough to leave the nest. Although I've gone through this before, it's never easy to loosen the apron strings. They are now 16 and ready to experience more and that's what we do, as parents, train them to move forward in life. Right now the boys are definitely interested in girls. It's a balancing act- loosening the reigns, yet taking up the slack.

The twins applied and interviewed for a job at FlipSide, a game center which has bowling, laser tag, bumper cars, an eatery, pool, miniature golf, etc. Tonight will be their first time working here. Dallan will work as a bus boy, and Hansan will start out in games. They are both excited and a big plus is that it's within walking distance.

When I was a little girl my first jobs were babysitting and picking blackberries. If you can believe it, a gallon of blackberries went anywhere from $.50 to $1.50 a gallon and babysitting pay was about the same per hour no matter how many children there were. I remember ordering seeds through the mail and excited about selling them door-to-door even though there were frequent rejections. I used to sell Current products this way, too (boxed stationery). I was not afraid to do whatever needed to have a little spending money. Cleaning houses and working for Al in her Montgomery Wards catalog store were two other jobs I did. Wendell Dunn hired me as a cashier in his pharmacy during my high school years.

I loved picking blackberries. We'd get all scratched up and sometimes accidentally fall into the stickery bushes, but it was still fun. To this day I love to pick blackberries and one of my favorite desserts is blackberry cobbler.