The celebration of America’s Independence strikes a chord in me that runs deep. I also have very passionate feelings about July 24th, and it’s special and unique significance.

However- since July 2001, it has been different for me and July comes and goes for me now with a mixture of sadness and confusion that come with losing a loved one.

July 4, 2001 was hot. We got up early in the morning to attend our local fireman’s breakfast. My Dad, Mom and kids, all filled up on pancakes, bacon and hashbrowns. We sat in the fire station and watched the runners come in from their 5 K competition.  The 3 on 3 basketball tourny was going on across the street in the church parking lot.

My Dad was a people person.  Everywhere you went people know and loved him.  He wasn’t a crowd person though and going to this kind of social event was not typical for him.  He wanted to get a good start on his trip to Northern California, so after breakfast we said quick goodbyes and off he went on his journey.

He talked to my Mom that afternoon and told her that he wasn’t feeling well. He was allergic to sunflower seeds and wondered when he had lunch if his bread might have contained them.  So, he was going to take some benadryl and lay down in the sleeper for a while to see if that would help.

He was in Wells, Nevada. Early in the morning on th 5th- He had pulled his truck into the fuel island at the Flying J truck stop. He stumbled around and passed out.  The employees then called an ambulance/  After going through his truck, the Manager of the Flying J found our home phone number and called us. The ambulance was taking him to the hospital in Elko.

My Mom, Paul and I jumped in the car and quickly headed for Elko.  We were concerned but not overly so.  He had been conscience when they had left Wells.

Arriving at the hospital- he looked parched. They said, he is dehydrated, and wanted to run further tests. We sat there all afternoon, and visited with him. He was tired, and his lips were dry. That night, he said, “Lisa, take your Mom to a hotel. She needs some rest.”- So I did. I mean, no one argued with my Dad. They had told us, they would probably release him the next day.

Mom and I went to Wal-mart. We bought a movie (Return to Me) to watch at our hotel, some goodies, jammas, things like that-

At four thirty am, the phone rang. I answered. It was the Doctor. “You need to come right away. Your father has quit breathing and we have been unable to recessitate him.”

I knew then, that he was gone. I repeated the words for my Mom, and we ran.

I didn’t want to walk into that hospital room. I didn’t want the next days and weeks and months to happen, I could see it— just like it happened. Glancing down that long tunnel of life, as if flashing before my eyes.

I miss him. The smell of diesel fuel can conjure up memories, so quickly that I think he is there, standing by me. Hamburgers and icey soda’s- bring me back to my youth. Traveling the road between Utah and California.  Boston baked beans, cabbage, a “hot toddie”, the Utah Jazz, Atlanta Braves- all of those things rolled up into a big, gruff character, was my Dad.

He had a temper, he was honest to a fault. He was brave and a hard, hard worker. Everyone who knew him, has a “Harvey” story. He was a jokester and a prankster. He loved his children and his grandchildren fiercely. He was the champion of the underdog. I wish he would have known Ethan in this life. I ache for that will all my heart. He would have loved him unconditionally and would have been his champion. He would have…. I know it.. He had a testimony of the Gospel, and though he did not attend church in the latter days of his life, he always paid tithing, and was a true example.

One of my most favorite “Dad” stories-

One time, he and his friends, stole a bunch of chickens.. and then set them loose in the school house, over Christmas Vacation- OH FOR THE MESS. He said they didn’t dare breath a word about that. The Law was looking for the culprits. He said the mess was incredible. It stopped school from resuming for a day or two. When he told the story, he would laugh so hard his eyes would creek together.

I miss you Dad-

I’m not sure I am capable of expressing my feelings regarding this day. I feel completely inept, when I try.

One thing I know for certain, is that our Declaration of Independence was inspired. The men who wrote, edited, re-wrote and wrote again before it was signed- were men of God.  They prayed, pondered and prayed again. They soul searched and researched and prayed some more.   I have no doubt.

This day– I hope you take a few minutes and consider that.

I am moved by a speech made my Franklin D. Roosevelt on July 4, 1942.

For 166 years this Fourth Day of July has been a symbol to the people of our country of the democratic freedom which our citizens claim as their precious birthright. On this grim anniversary its meaning has spread over the entire globe–focusing the attention of the world upon the modern freedoms for which all the United Nations are now engaged in deadly war.

On the desert sands of Africa, along the thousands of miles of battle lines in Russia, in New Zealand and Australia, and the islands of the Pacific, in war-torn China and all over the seven seas, free men are fighting desperately–and dying–to preserve the liberties and the decencies of modern civilization. And in the overrun and occupied nations of the world, this day is filled with added significance, coming at a time when freedom and religion have been attacked and trampled upon by tyrannies unequaled in human history.

Never since it first was created in Philadelphia, has this anniversary come in times so dangerous to everything for which it stands. We celebrate it this year, not in the fireworks of make-believe but in the death-dealing reality of tanks and planes and guns and ships. We celebrate it also by running without interruption the assembly lines which turn out these weapons to be shipped to all the embattled points of the globe. Not to waste one hour, not to stop one shot, not to hold back one blow–that is the way to mark our great national holiday in this year of 1942.

To the weary, hungry, unequipped Army of the American Revolution, the Fourth of July was a tonic of hope and inspiration. So is it now. The tough, grim men who fight for freedom in this dark hour take heart in its message–the assurance of the right to liberty under God–for all peoples and races and groups and nations, everywhere in the world.

It’s a bit humbling isn’t it?  Happy Happy Independence Day.  I hope, with all my heart that I never forget the sacrifices paid, the effort made and the valiant men and woman who have made the life I live now, possible.

May we maintain our vigilance and due diligence to keep those freedoms intact.  It is absolutely essential that we do so.  Of this, I have no doubt.

After consulting the powers that be, a decision was made to create cookies and some other baked desserts for our celebration !

So off on an adventure we went– in search of our best recipes and even some we had not tried before!

Our first delve was a simple peanut butter cookie. A staple, in the cookie arena, not too sweet with chunks of peanuts- Crusty on the outside but soft and moist.  A perfect dunking cookie. . . if you like that sort of thing.

Classic Peanut Butter Cookie

—Ingredients—

1 cup unsalted butter

1 cup crunchy peanut butter

1 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

—-Directions—

1)  Cream together butter, peanut butter and sugars. Beat in eggs.

2)  In a separate bowl, shift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

3)  Mix slowly, adding flour mix a half a cup at a time.  After well mixed refrigerate for 1 hour.

4)  Roll into 1 inch balls and put on baking sheets.  Flatten each ball with a fork, making a criss-cross patterns in a preheated 375 degree oven for 10 minutes or until cookies begin to brown.  Do not over bake.

These really do turn out great !

My next foray into the cookie world was our attempt to make chocolate M&M cookies.  This was my first time making these.  My sister pointed me to a recipe for these and boy did they turn out well.  So yummy !

Chocolate M&M Cookies

–Ingredients–

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 ounces semisweet or milk chocolate, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, cut into eight pieces
3/4 cup M&M’s
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla

–Directions–

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt; set aside.

In a medium microwave-safe bowl, place the chopped chocolate and the butter. Microwave for one minute at 50% power. Stir. Microwave again for one minute at 50% power and stir well. If the chocolate is not fully melted, continue microwaving in 30 second intervals at 50% power until the chocolate and butter are well combined (don’t overheat the chocolate or it can seize and turn hard and unusable). Let the mixture cool slightly, about 2-3 aminutes until it is at room temperature or just slightly warm (but not hot).

In a large bowl (or in the bowl of an electric stand mixer), combine the chocolate mixture, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Mix on medium speed until combined. Gradually mix in flour mixture on low speed. Fold in M&M’s with a wooden spoon (don’t use a mixer as the M&M’s will break into pieces and notb stay whole).

Line baking sheets with parchment paper, silpat liners or lightly grease them with cooking spray. Drop dough onto baking sheets by tablespoonfuls (or use a cookie scoop) spacing them about 1 1/2 inches apart. If desired, place five or six M&M’s on top of the cookie dough balls (even perched slightly on the rounded sides). Bake the cookies until they have slightly flattened and there are a few cracks on the surface, about 13-14 minutes. The cookies will still be soft. Let the cookies sit for 2-3 minutes on the baking sheet before removing them to a wire rack to cool completely. These cookies will stay fresh in an airtight container for about 2 days. I freeze them between sheets of wax paper in a large tupperware container and they defrost beautifully at room temperature or for a few seconds in the microwave.

This was a fun project for me.  I hope the celebration and the party go well !

Currently this picture is on my profile status on Facebook.  I picked it for a reason, and have been asked a couple of times about it.  S0, on this billowy afternoon, as Ethan is giggling on the floor and I am sitting here looking at the beautiful scenery outside my window–I thought I would delve.

Since having Ethan and the entire cornucopia of experiences he brought along with him, all that I have thought I believed in has been challenged. All the difficult questions we avoid night and day have been inescapable.  Truly teetering on the edge of the “do I really believe” fence- I have walked.

I was reminded last week after seeing a film at LDS Temple Visitor’s Center of my convictions regarding promises given to us by our Savior and Heavenly Father.   This film was a brief depiction of Jesus’ life.  It showed the miracles. The healing of the sick, the blind, the deaf, the afflicted.  Simple video images, accompanied by  amazing music–It was a humbling experience and a powerful reminder to hang in there, hold tight and to be strong.

With out question, I know that someday Ethan will be made whole.  The earthly ties that bind him will be removed and his spirit un-contained. What a transformation that will be.  A body perfect from disease and restrictions. What sheer delight  it will be to get to know Ethan, in a different window.

That knowledge provides sustenance. It brings you through the hard days, and is a reminder to be grateful on the good ones.

Well, that and diet cola, a bit of humor, good friends and supportive family.

So back to this picture.  I can see my boy, sitting in the warm summer sunshine- puffy clouds, hanging out with his dog. A smile on his face–

It will happen– I know it.

“Oh what do you do in the summertime when all the world is green….”

I was wrought with worry and concern at the beginning of the school year, wondering how Ethan would do and what the future would have in store for my little man.

Over the weeks and months I have been continually surprised with progress and the abilities that Ethan has developed.   This has been by far and away the most successful school year he has had.  He has attended all day long, with only a few times me having to go and get him early.  The complete opposite of last year. Not only that but Ethan makes it very well known on the weekends that he misses his school routine and his attitude is demonstrative of that.

In the grand scheme of things, what does this mean? Why is that such a big deal? Because it is evidence of communication.  Sounds so silly, but it is true.  Ethan is teaching us how to communicate with him.  I love it. Who knew? I certainly never thought it would be possible.  Okay, so it isn’t words, or even sign language–but, it is communication all the same.  We are learning to read his cues and he ours.  What a world it can be.

There are so many things I did not think would be possible where Ethan is involved.  It’s been a war torn battle fought in the quiet closet corners of my heart. Wanting so badly to hope for certain developments to occur, yet being afraid to even dream of them for fear of disappointment.

Ethan has rallied though. Igniting faith and hope, reminding me in spades that there are every day miracles if we only take the time to find them. Ethan, who is confined by his earthly body and has limitations broader than my ability to even express– has taught me lessons beyond measure.

Slowly his lessons are ebbing in.  For that, I am grateful.

FIRST NAME? Lisa

WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Rumor has it, my name was suggested by my half sisters, at the urging of their step father, who is really not a very nice man. Apparently my parent’s didn’t know exactly where the suggestion comes from. BUT ugg. That man, will rot in the bowels of hell.

DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? In third grade, my handwriting was deplorable, so my teacher, Mrs. Paritea, had me copy a dictionary in order to improve my penmenship. Now, I am fairly content with my handwriting, and there is a part of me, that enjoys writing things out. I doddle constantly, and you can often figure out what my phone conversation is about, just by looking at my doodle sheet.

LUNCHMEAT? I don’t love lunchmeat. Unless it is really really good lunch meat, and that is hard to come by. So usually you can count on me, for a grilled cheese. I am not all that keen on sandwiches.

KIDS? I have a bunch? Am I supposed to keep track of these things?

COULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOURSELF? I certainly hope so.

DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? Um ya.. one for the WHOLE entire world to see.

DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Uh.. Maybe?

DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Nope, I wonder what happened to them though?

WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Hell no. Not even just a no, but a hell no. I just will never *get* it, either.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Not a huge cereal fan. My favorite though, is corn flakes, with a touch of powdered sugar, dried cranberries and sliced bananas. Also coconut if I have it.

DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES BEFORE TAKING THEM OFF? I don’t usually wear shoes that have laces, but when I do, I usually, just slip them off. I prefer to be barefoot and usually am.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? I used to think I was invincible. Then, I learned I was a weakling. Then I found some strength, and then a little bit more. NOW, I think I am strong for the most part, but I am quite aware of my weaknesses.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? I have three. Mint, Capachino & Black Cherry, chip.

SHOE SIZE? I wear a size 6, but a 7, feels so good, I buy a size 8.

RED or PINK? Red, red, red.

WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Do I have to choose just one? I really dislike that I can be explosive. I get mad, not really fast, but sometimes with out a lot of warning. I hate my teeth, and can’t wait to get dentures. I really dislike that I am not inherently the fly lady. I have never really cared much if my house is spotless, and when I go into others houses that are, I feel very uncomfortable.

WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?  I could never choose just one. I’ve said goodbye to so many.

LAST THING YOU ATE? Taco’s and a Diet Cola

WHAT COLOR PANTS & SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Jean’s and my sneakers. (Thanks Melissa, I still love these Nike’s that you gave me)

WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TOO RIGHT NOW? The fan in my room, buzzing.

WHAT COLOR OF CRAYON WOULD YOU BE? Indigo

FAVORITE SMELL? Lilacs, Tea Roses, Pomegranate Candle (Salt City), Blueberry Candle (Yankee), Pineapple (Scentsy)

WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON THAT YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Victoria Jo

THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO? Their countenance. I almost instantly love the people I am going to end up loving. I have found that people generally glow, from the inside out.

DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU THIS ? Oh, VERY much so. Someday when I grow up, I am going to be JUST like her!

FAVORITE DRINK? Diet Cola, iced with lime.

FAVORITE SPORT? Water Polo (of course), and College  Basketball.

HAT SIZE? Um. I am REALLY not a hat person.

DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Sometimes, but more often than not, I am a glasses girl.

FAVORITE FOOD? Do I have to choose just ONE? Goodness, food is my FORTE. I love Italian, I love Mexican and I really love Ribs & Steak, and I like all of the above, with a REALLY good salad.

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy Endings. I am not someone who enjoys being scared. I do like a little bit of suspense, but I will never love scary movies. I just don’t *get* it. I also get annoyed when the good guy DIES at the end. WHAT in the SMACK OF BUDDA IS THAT?

LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE THEATER? “The Last Song”, sappy, but I love movies with Kenner.

COLOR SHIRT YOU ARE WEARING? A grey sweatshirt, which is my most favorite and beloved of all shirts. I have had it for ever, and when I put it on, I feel like I am home.

SUMMER OR WINTER? I would be a FALL girl. THIS IS MY SEASON PEOPLE!

HUGS OR KISSES? Slow, Long, Wet, Deep Kisses that last three days.

FAVORITE DESSERT? Double Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake with Chocolate cookie crust.

WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? “Cortical Visual Impairment, a Guide for Intervention” as well as “The Axis of the Brain”, and “The Summer Chronicles”

WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? A really odd episode of “Ghost Whisperer” which is not my favorite show in the least!

FAVORITE SOUND? My children’s laughter. When it rains all night, and the sound of my bedroom fan!

ROLLING STONE OR THE BEATLES? Beatles. Abby Road is my most favorite album, followed by The White Album. I feel in LOVE with the Beatles, first in 1973, and then again, for life in 1988. I will always remember the Beatles, and the way I felt when I really listened to their music for the first time.

FURTHEST YOU’VE BEEN AWAY FROM HOME?  The UK? I would have to measure it, for certain.

WHAT’S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT? Goodness, do I have to pick just one (I wonder if sarcasm could be a talent?)

WHEN AND WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Payson, UT, July 22.

This is a very long MeMe, thanks for listening. I would LOVE to hear more about you!

It doesn’t seem like much time went by before Mom started to get ill.  This was a much longer, drawn out event that was filled with a different basket of sorrows. When she finally left her earthy body for good, I foolishly felt prepared having been able to say our goodbyes this time.

Yet with her passing came other set of heartaches and the real sense of not having an anchor or a place to fall back on.  The rippling effects of which are still fresh and forefront on our minds, almost two years later.

One of the hardest things is that my children, nieces and nephews pretty much do not have any grandparents.  Jay, Hans and Victoria were lucky.  They will have memories for a lifetime of both their Maternal Grandparents.  Their influence, their spirit the values and principles they expressed will never be questioned or forgotten.  Kaden and Morgan will remember Grandma pretty well and the stories, life histories and family dialog will help keep those recollections tucked away in their hearts, life long.  I hope.

The rest of the kids? Hailey, Kambo, Eth and Brin.  Not so much.  You can share your memories with them, but they will never have their own.

And that sucks.

My Mom was remarkable in so many ways.  Never a birthday passed, a holiday or even a Tuesday for that matter that went unnoticed.  There as celebration in all things, and she was good at it.  My Dad, loved his grandkids.  They made his world go round.  He used to talk about them playing high school sports and how excited he was to watch that.

My folks being gone has left a gulf of emptiness and is indescribable.  As a parent there is great heartache in the lack of the support that came with their attitude and the way they lived their lives.

My Dad never got to see Victoria play water polo, though her Grandma did.  My Dad nor Mom, never got to see Kaden play high school basketball or baseball. They did not get to see Morgan preform dance routines, or attend their music recitals.  The younger kids, nothing at all.

Here’s the clincher though.  The real heart ache. We do have other grandparents.  Jay and Hans have a Grandmother and Step-Grandfather that are about an hour away.  Kade, Morgan, Hailey and Kambo have grandparents that live pretty much around the corner.

Every single one of those adults have made the choice to not be involved in their grandchildren’s lives.   The stifling reminder of that, is often on my mind when I sit at a game or a concert alone.  It is a huge reminder of the loss. A keen, heartbreaking loneliness.

Holiday’s, birthdays, or even a Tuesday… they just are not the same.

This weekend I had a million plans. I knew what I was going to wear, who I was going to see, what we were going to do and how much fun we were going to have.

Yet amid all the best kept plans, the coordination of schedules and conversations, nothing happened the way I had envisioned it.

While this is just a bump in the road in the grand scheme of life it is just another reminder of how easily and quickly things can change.

This isn’t a new concept to me.  Surely with the last six years under my belt I have enough evidence of Heavenly Father’s sense of humor when I relate to him what my plans are.  Yet, as usual it is something I keep having to re-learn or be reminded of from time to time.

How do we best prepare ourselves for what might be coming at us from around the corner?  I’ve pondered this question a lot this weekend. Not just the little things, but the grand ones. How different would my life have been if I had been more prepared.   If I had known anything about the disability world.  If I had known anything about the human body and the way it functioned. I wonder if I had been familiar with the systems of care I would come in contact with or if I had any real guidance as how to navigate them.  What would my life have been like this last six years had I been armed with even a speck of information regarding these things.

We all face uncertainty. Individually and collectively.  We can map out and plan our lives down to the very tiniest detail, yet despite our best efforts there will be twists and curve balls.

Small little tiny things, a speck on the calendar that goes unfulfilled and the snowball effect of those things. Great big events that splatter all over your life and change the way you are, how you cope and your entire existence.

Preparing for these surprises seem almost ridiculous.  I mean, now that I know the hardships as well as the greatships that have come from having a disabled child I could prepare every expectant mother on the planet on the what ifs.  Yet, six years ago, I would not have known to even ask.

I think the real answer lies in how well we deal with these splotches.  How we cope with the unexpectedness of those curve balls that life throws us.  I know for certain I have much to learn.

I cope with avoidance.  I ignore things I need to do, because of a new drama that is unfolding.  I refuse to have conversations that I am scared of having. As I go through life, I get better at these things, but have no perfected them by any shape of the imagination.  I have hurt others beyond anything I can describe because of this.  Just one phone call and I probably could have handled things so much better. But, nope.  I hide.

I hope that in the future, I can retain what I have learned.  That I can wade through my own insecurities and heartaches and realize that others around me deserve to at least know the truth and what is going on.

I read in a disability parenting book that we realize at one point as parents that our friends will never really understand our situations.  We also sense that our friends don’t really want to know the ups and downs and heartaches.  I think there is a lot of truth to that.  It’s not a fault of anyone, not really.  We are all afraid of things we don’t know or understand, combined that with it having to do with our children, it even compounds those issues.   So, while I believe this to be true I think it does friendships an injustice.  Why should I assume that my friends don’t want to know. I need to at least give them the opportunity to say how they are feeling.

Their is a huge vulnerability to that however.   It is horribly uncomfortable to feel so exposed. That is the root of the root and the bud of the bud.

Hopefully someday in a Galaxy  not so far away,  I will be able to pull together myself and respond to those curve balls that are just around the corner.

Until then, I hope you can all hang with me.  I am enormously grateful for those of you help me be the best I can be.

I glanced over at them as they were seated.  Earrings, tattoos, funky hair and obnoxious clothing.  I went back to the conversation at hand and tried to ignore the banter across the isle.  As the crude discussion, jabs about sex and immorality along with other off handed comments proceeded, my ability to stay focused on my friend and our conversation became almost impossible.

I leaned over and said, “I don’t think those kids are making good choices.”

I will never know for sure the way those kids lives will turn out.  Who they were or what their stories are.   One thing, I could go out on a limb and suggest tho, is that group of kids did not have a niche.

I see all the time people balking at ideas.  They hate sports or teams, they don’t like this or that.  They say they don’t need friends or people, they cry out that they can take care of themselves and refuse others help.

I wonder about the Columbine kids.  Who thinks they were boy scouts? Did they belong to the water polo team? Did they participate in chess club or run track? Did they have an adult in their lives that knew them? Talked and listened to what they had to say? Who heard their pain an understood their isolation, their heart ache?

I’ve read almost anything I could find on them at one time or another, and from all accounts reported, it does not seem so.

When people go through lives not being a part of anything it seems they rebuff inclusion.  They scoff at the Olympics and have no interest in groups or clubs. They feel flat at church and refuse to participate or even go.

Here’s the thing. We are humans. We all need to feel some semblance of acceptance.  We all want to be understood and appreciated.  Even when we say, it isn’t so.

We all need help at times.  We need support systems and people to call when there is an emergency.  Just as we all need the opportunity to serve our fellow men, we need the opportunity to allow ourselves to be served.  I truly believe with all of my heart that when we deny others the chance to serve us we are doing a great injustice to society and that there will be eternal ramifications for denying other those chances.

No matter what your “thing” is. Music, sports, art or what ever your interest might be… look around you and see if there is someone to bring into the fold. I am not suggesting that we need to all love the Olympics, or that we need to follow water polo (or maybe I am.. ha) I am merely suggesting that we all need something to be a part of.

Otherwise, gangs would not exist. Otherwise we would not have kids desiring to shoot each other. Greed would be less and peace would be more plentiful.

It’s just a theory, but I am thinking… I might be on to something !