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I have a million things going on in my mind, and I have no way of even being able to come up with a title let alone a post. So I am going to ramble.

Today, I had the chance to talk to one of Victoria’s friends, Veronica (part of Team V, in water polo) online. I love her, she is such a gem! She offered to adopt Ethan as her little brother. She then asked, what were the things he COULD do. Ah, now that of course makes my day. I was happy to fill her in. There are so many things we didn’t think Ethan would EVER do. When I told her that, she asked what. So I answered a quick little summation. It does my heart good to focus on the positive. To talk about his strengths is a reminder of all the things Ethan has been able to learn, as well as how we have grown.

The Bozark and I have been reconnecting with his siblings. What a joy that has been. We have an incredible sister-in-law that has been very instrumental in bringing everyone together and for that, we will be eternally grateful! We are delighted to be introduced to two wonderful nephews and a beautiful niece. We met with his family and had an impromptu baby shower, for his youngest sister who is expecting a new baby any day!!! That was a blast, and we have been having so much fun. We all went to the zoo, and scampered around looking at the animals and celebrated our youngest nephew’s, 3rd birthday! We are looking forward to getting to know them better and we even have a camping trip scheduled for the end of the month that we are just dang excited about! I can’t believe how enhanced our lives are, and how grateful we are, to have this new adventurous path to travel down!

Ethan, my gorgeous young man has been on the steady upwards incline for a while now. He is doing so well, that I can’t believe it. I’m just amazed with all the many things that he has been doing lately. Some highlights; He attended the Independence Day Parade, with us and was incredibly well behaved. No crying, fussing or having a fit. After the parade, we walked down to the park for our small town festivities. While the other kids played and had a great time, Ethan sat in his chair and later on my lap, for a great while, before we decided it was time to go home. He did so well, I could not believe it! He laughed and giggled and played, and completely behaved. I’m STUNNED. That is all I have to say. Later, we took him to the fireworks where we hung out with the Bozark’s family, and again he played and laughed and watched the fireworks. No screaming, crying ect. What a marvelous day. I am so proud of him. Ethan has also been working his ability to clap. He doesn’t have much use for his right arm (we are hoping that some day, he’ll get the memo that he even has one..) So he moves his left arm, across his body and claps. WOW. That is something I never ever would have thought possible! Another MAJOR inchstone, has been summer school. He has transitioned from his regular classroom, to another room, with a different teacher and at a different time of day. Are you kidding me? We were all prepared for the very WORST. Not only that, but it is so much hotter and he is incredibly heat sensitive. Our boy, has sat up in his wheelchair and adapted beautifully. All reports from school have been favorable! He still has times where he is very fussy and cries. We do our best to console him. Sometimes, we simply can’t. However, that is happening less and less. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

We are preparing for our the Steven’s-Taylor annual Camp-A-Thon. We most often refer to it as the Rebellion. This will be the first year with out my Mom, and I am trying very hard to gear up for it. This reunion was her thing. It literally meant everything to her.She would wait and look forward to it all year long. Then come the long trip home she would start planning next years. I think it would be safe to say, she was the Matriarch of the family. It was so important to her, that come August the entire family would pack up, and head to the mountain. She made me promise her, just a day before she passed away, that I would do my best to carry on this tradition. I’ll keep it. Though, it will never be the same with out her.

Tomorrow will mark the eighth year we have been with out my Dad. There will always be a special place in my heart for Independence Day, simply because that was the last event we spent with him. He drove off in his big maroon Kenworth, on his last trip and left us smiling and waving at him from the Fireman’s Fundraiser Breakfast. Though, he wasn’t perfect, he was the best. I’ve gained many a lesson from him, and I miss him desperately. Sometimes it comes in a physical ache. I wish he would have known Ethan in this life. He would have been his champion. He was the absolute supporter of the underdog and he would have loved to see his grandchildren participate in sports. He used to comment on how he hoped he would live to see Kaden play high school ball. That wish was not granted, nor did he ever see Victoria play water polo. He would have really enjoyed that. When the swish of that ball hit the back of the net, in our sudden death state championship water polo game, my first thought was, I know my Dad is cheering for her, from on high. The youngest grandchild will only know him through the stories, which is a shame. However, I am grateful that we have those to share. And, share we will. You can count on that.

My job has had some twist and turns in it lately and I have learned so much about myself on this journey. I am so grateful that I have been granted this opportunity. This last month we have had some people out on personal leave and it has left a gaping hole in our system. Everyone has thrown in the towel, on our schedule and just tried to pull it together and do what we can. I am always surprised by how people react to things and accommodate for the need, even when it is tough. I have been able to work with some adult clients, and I have come to understand and appreciate how much effort and investment they have into being successful. I have often judged way too quickly and thought far too harshly about peoples situations. I see things a little differently now, and changing that view, has been really good for my personal growth and development.

Life is quite a journey, isn’t it? Gratitude is what I feel this day.

Peace is a precious commodity around here.

Since my Mom passed away, I have been struggling with nightmares and dreams that leave me feeling iffish and full of angst.  I did not expect this. Not at all.  I thought we were prepared, ready for Mom to go. We said our goodbyes, had those hard conversations and we knew, it was coming.

The truth is, that her actual dying, isn’t what I thought it would be. I invisioned this room with a hospice nurse there, and us all sitting at her bedside, saying “Mom it is okay, go ahead and go”.

That isn’t at all how it happened.

The CNA, came that Morning about 11ish.  I helped her clean and dress Mom. Her breathing was incredibly shallow, and raspy.  I knew she was in pain. We administered liquid ativan and morphine because we needed to move her. I knew how painful that was, when she could articulate it so.  After giving her the medications I carefully picked her up. The nurse, much quicker than I, grabbed her bedding, and things.. and I sat Mom down in a chair.  We hurried. Mom was always cold these days, and I did not want her to suffer in any way. I wrapped her afghan around her.  This afghan was a gift from her brother and it has beautiful scenes of her  childhood home town on it.  We washed her hair, gave her a sponge bath, changed her bedding.  When she was all taken care of, I lifted her again, and laid her on the bed.

She died about ten minutes later. Quietly. Just her and I, and at the very end, Paul.  The house was quiet. A candle, sugar cookie scented was lit and the Mormon Tabernacle Chior was playing in the other room.  “How Great Thou Art”

Alone in that room, I saw her body turn a deep shade of gray. Then her eyes quit fluttering, and her breathing more shallow. And then- she was gone.

I feel unsettled. I feel angry. I feel tired. I feel traumatized. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Where is the peace that is supposed to come with death? Why is this so hard for me? Why?

I feel betrayed by my own self confidence. I feel utterly stunned by the enormous gulf of emptiness that I can’t seem to escape.

I don’t want to be this adult I have become. I don’t want to be the genealogy person in the family. I don’t want to continue on with her holiday traditions  the ones that are HERS, that cause me to ache and cry. I want everyone to miss her the way I do. I want everyone to know how much I admired her, even though I rarely said that. I want to shake those who I felt didn’t pay her enough attention or do things with/for her, the way I thought they should.

I want the world to remember her, in her prime. Vivacious and full of life. Capable of doing any craft. Capable of getting everyone to do the things she felt were important. Capable of surviving the worst of the worst, and do it with verve. Strong, independent, and a bright light.

I am very grateful for the last year. I wouldn’t change having her with me, for the world.

I sure did love her.

I reconnected with a familiar lost feeling, on Saturday- when my Mom passed away.  The echoing chaos is enormously reminiscent of the seven years ago, when my Dad suddenly left us.

The funeral and flowers, temple dresses and family visiting.  It seems like the whirl created, helps us remove ourselves from the painful realizations.

We’ve had some incredible re-connecting experiences over the course of the last week.  Calm, quiet, elegant dinners out with my Sisters.  Beautiful conversations as we drove across the barren state of Utah, with cousins who came from very far away, to emerge themselves with us, on this journey.  The scent of roses, fills the house and the amazing display of friends and family who came to say goodbye and wish us well. We laughed and cried and laughed some more.

The strength evident in my daughter as she spoke at the funeral about her Grandmother’s history, and at the end delved into her feelings about the last six months of her life and the coexistance between those two very special spirits.

Musical talents shared with us, by the best friends that can exisit.

I will never forget these moments. Precious, beautiful, heartbreaking moments. Drops in my cup.

I’ve wandered around today, noticing Mom’s and Daughters. Sitting out on the veranda of the coffee shop, in the floral store, walking together down mainstreet.  I feel this numb sense of loss, and the distinct impression that my life will never quite be the same again.

The instinctive thought to call home and check on her today, dialing the phone, before I remembered… there is no need for that now.  She is in far better hands, than mine.

I am grateful for all I hold dear.

I am sorry I’ve been away so long. I’m in the process of saying my final farewells.

I will return, soon.

Here in Leave-It-To-Beaver-Land we have our annual harvest festival, celebrating the local peach crop. There is the large parade,  the small parade, beauty pageant, the typical events with all the trimmings. It’s been said, that “Peach Days” is one of the grandest celebrations in all the land.

Of course it is the family favorite and attending all such things is a must.

On Saturday, the entire town was crawling with people, and the city gussied up in all its glorious pageantry. I attempted to attend the parade. I geared up for the candy throwing,  bright costumes and lots of noise.  As I got settled in, snuggled deep in my lawn chair. Bottle of water in hand, and quite comfy.  We had just stood for the passing of the flags, when the cell phone rang and we were called home.

At home,  I found myself alone with Ethan and Mom. Ethan who was crying non stop and Mom who was insisting that we go celebrate.

I tried to express to her, that two wheelchairs and one pusher is not a good combo. I went over the scenario with her and explained that I was not capable of taking both of them by myself.  She insisted. Profusely. She begged and pleaded and begged some more.

So on the hope of getting a hold of my kids on their cell phones and having them meet me.  I geared up for the journey and packed them both in my car along with both wheelchairs.  Speed dialing all the way there, hearing nothing but voicemail, I really started to get nervous.

I found a parking place four blocks from main. Still no answer on any of the cell phones.  Hoping to catch the tail end of the third largest parade in Utah, I pasted on my determined look and helped each of them into their wheelchairs. Pushing my Mom and pulling Ethan I headed towards Main Street, with hope of finding my teens. I did have a general idea of where they would be.

I finally wrestled the wheelchairs to the corner of Second South and Main Street. There were so many people. It was hard to maneuver the chairs through the crowd.  We were at the corner awaiting the light to change from red to green, ready to head across the street.  I had the wheelchairs in front of me. One hand on each chair.  All of a sudden, with no warning-no word of caution, at all. My Mom turned towards Ethan and puked. Projectile vomit. Enormous amounts of vomit. Everywhere.  All over Ethan, all over three perfectly dressed, composed strangers.  Everywhere.

I swear, all of a sudden time stopped. It’s like in the movies, where the entire world stills and the camera swings around.  I took it all in.  Ethan screaming, strangers gasping, my Mom looking stunned and horrified.

I’m not sure what happened after that. Frantic searching for wipes, paper towels, napkins. People assuring me, it was no big deal. Screaming into Victoria’s voice mail. “WHERE ARE YOU”- like she could hear me. Turning around, and heading back.

Finally finding Vix and Jay. Leaving Ethan and Mom with them. Finding the car. Packing them up and heading home.

It wasn’t quite the day I had in mind.

We survived though.

Peach Cobbler, made it all better!