So, it's been a week and two days since my last posting. It was a weird week (and two days). Good, but weird. Here follows a long and semi-boring update of what I've been up to:
Monday night, as I mentioned, we drove to Bear Lake area for the funeral of our friend, Phillip. Monday night was the viewing. So tragic. So much loss. After the viewing, Dustin took me out to the lake were he grew up and we watched the sunset on the beach. It helped both of us feel better.
Tuesday was the funeral. It was an amazing service. Our friend Phillip was a police officer and was honored with a full color guard from many departments from all over Idaho. Very impressive. Any of you prayer-saying folks, please continue to think of his family, his wife, Michelle, in particular. She needs prayers very much right now. Please and thank you.
Wednesday morning I woke up with no children at home. My mom and dad had kept our kids Monday night while we traveled and we got home so late on Tuesday that she just let them sleep over again. I was doing some stuff on the computer and heard a very weird noise, like a pressure washer or something. Then suddenly I smelled sewer gas. VERY strong sewer gas. Turns out they were doing some spray-out-the-sewer-lines thing and we don't have a trap in our floor drain or something (which will be remedied when we finish the family room in our basement because we moved the floor drain and will plug the trapless one). So, we get all the lovely smells from the sewer pressure wash. Let me tell you, it's awesome. But not really. Dustin happened to call me during this lovely experience. I told him of the pleasant aroma permeating our house and he told me to "get out of the house and get out now!" Apparently sewer gas is bad to breathe and it burns your lungs without you even knowing it's doing it. (He has the pleasure of working around sewer gas here and there for his engineering firm, so he's knowledgeable about such things. Lucky guy.) So, I threw on some clothes and went to my mom's house to get my kids. I stayed there for a while.
Then my friend called with an emergency shopping request. She had her 20 year high school reunion to go to that weekend and wanted me to help her find something to wear. I was supposed to be painting at my duplex, but I opted for shopping instead. I haven't been shopping in... I don't know how long, but a long time. It was super fun and I was told I was "the ultimate shopping friend". What a compliment! But we didn't find any swanky shoes for her to wear so, we planned to go shopping the next day too.
On our Thursday shopping trip we found the swanky shoes within the first hour and decided it was too early to just go home. We ate lunch and then, I had been wanting some new shirts so we looked for those for a while. I don't know why but it was really hard for me to shop for myself with other people. I didn't like being the center of attention. And what's with all the puffy sleeves out there? I have VERY square shoulders and the puff doesn't work very well for me. Go away puffy sleeves. Come back another decade. (or don't)
Thursday night we had a cute couple over for dinner, Jenn and Richard. Jenn is pregnant and due very soon and she wanted me to teach her the breathing techniques I used during unmedicated labor. It was interesting. I felt a little dumb, but I can only hope that it helps them during the birth of their daughter.
Friday I went to my mom's and picked zillions of green beans. My mom has a HUGE garden. Huge. We picked the beans and then we canned the beans. Dustin came home from work and took the kids camping overnight. I canned more beans and left my mom's house just after midnight.
Saturday I slept in until 10:00!!! I was shocked. I did some chores and then the fam came home from camping. They all reeked of campfire (one of my least favorite smells on the earth) and I threw them all in the shower. Later that evening we attended a lovely barbecue at a friend's house.
Sunday I went to church and came home and read a book all afternoon. Then went to my parents to celebrate my mom's birthday. We had the best dinner.... my mouth is watering just remembering. YUM.
Oh, I forgot to mention, on Wednesday Rohan asked me if I would buy him a four-wheeler. I told him maybe when he's grown up and maybe if we don't live in the city because they're illegal to drive in the city. He got mad and said, "Well MacdenElla drive them on our street!" (Rohan always says "MacdenElla" like one word, meaning Mac and Ella.) I finally figured out that he meant a two-wheeler... a bicycle. I then informed him that he has a bicycle, it just has training wheels on it. If we took them off then it would be a two-wheeler. He then asked if we could take off his training wheels. I told him that his dad would do that and to ask him when he came home from work.
To make a long story short, Dustin took off the training wheels before he went to work on Friday morning. Rohan asked me several times to help him ride his bike and I wasn't dressed yet and, honestly, didn't feel like chasing behind a bike, bent over to prevent falling, so I put him off a few times. I was doing something on the computer later and Mac came up and informed me that he had helped Rohan get his bike out and Rohan just took off and rode it with no training wheels at all! Turns out I didn't even need to help him. What a kid!
This little clip is his 2nd try at riding sans training wheels. (his first time, I missed because I was being a lazy mom...)
And here is the third try. Look at him get it going all by himself. He's so cute! And yes, he just turned four in May... way to young to be so big! (Don't mind my neighbor's yucky lawn... I mind it enough for all of us!)
So there's my week in a nutshell. The most exciting thing was, by far, Rohan's bicycle feats. It made my day on Friday.
The end.
Except I forgot one thing... after a whole two days of being a training-wheel-free rider, Rohan rode all the way to my parents' house on Sunday afternoon with Dustin, Mac and Ella. My parents house is almost 4 miles away from my house! Dustin brought the stroller just in case Roh got tired but he never did. Dustin did force him ride in it for the last quarter mile because the road is very busy with no sidewalk. Rohan was angry at Dustin for making him ride in the "baby stroller!"
I say again, what a kid!
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Today
Today... and tomorrow, I should say, will be rough.
Today we will go to a viewing. A good friend of ours was killed in a car accident last week. My thoughts have been with his family since Thursday when I heard the news. My tears have not stayed put whenever I think about his sweet sister (one of my dear friends), his dear mother and his young and precious wife and children.
Tomorrow we will attend his funeral.
Life is not fair sometimes. He was too young, too much life left to live. Healthy. Happy.
Questions are asked that have no answers. At least none that we can see right now. Sometimes these things make sense far into the future when we can look back with that 20/20 hindsight.
I pray for peace in the hearts of those he left behind. I pray for strength for them. For courage. For time to pass quickly and heal their wounds the way only time can.
I love you Jennie and Jared. Michelle, Andy, Hailey. Barb. Peace be with you.
We'll miss you, Phillip.
Today we will go to a viewing. A good friend of ours was killed in a car accident last week. My thoughts have been with his family since Thursday when I heard the news. My tears have not stayed put whenever I think about his sweet sister (one of my dear friends), his dear mother and his young and precious wife and children.
Tomorrow we will attend his funeral.
Life is not fair sometimes. He was too young, too much life left to live. Healthy. Happy.
Questions are asked that have no answers. At least none that we can see right now. Sometimes these things make sense far into the future when we can look back with that 20/20 hindsight.
I pray for peace in the hearts of those he left behind. I pray for strength for them. For courage. For time to pass quickly and heal their wounds the way only time can.
I love you Jennie and Jared. Michelle, Andy, Hailey. Barb. Peace be with you.
We'll miss you, Phillip.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
From The Jar... #30
And the Jar says...
How do you feel about death? Tell about your philosophy of after-life.
Hmmm.... not the easiest pick to be starting at midnight, but I'm going for it.
{WARNING: Macabre content in this post. Read at your own risk. I considered editing parts, but this is for me. I want to remember this.}
I believe that after this life we have the opportunity to be reunited with loved ones. I believe I will carry with me everything I've learned in this life and that I will have the opportunity to continue growing and learning. I believe in resurrection and eternal families.
I am not afraid of death. The dying part could be another story, but we'll cross that bridge when it comes. That being said, I am terribly afraid of death around me. I have always had a terrible fear of cemeteries. As an adult, I'm more or less over that one, but as a child I would hide my face if we even drove by a cemetery. I was terribly disturbed by them and I don't know why.
Dead bodies hold a very deep rooted fear for me. I remember being at a funeral when I was about 14 years old. It was for my sister's then-boyfriend's brother, Roman, who was killed in an avalanche. I watched person after person go to his casket and hold his hand, stroke his face, or touch him in some manner. I was absolutely mortified. I didn't understand it and, frankly, I still don't.
My grandma passed away almost three years ago. We tried to get there in time to say goodbye, but she passed just before we arrived. The grief in the room was tangible, and I watched my mom and dad go and kiss her and touch her face and stroke her hair while they cried. I stood against the wall with my arms folded. My mom said to me, "Do you want to hold her hand or anything? She's still warm...?" I felt like my eyes bulged at the suggestion. I shook my head vehemently and stayed put. In a few minutes I walked over to her thinking maybe I could do it. I even reached my hand out, but in the end, all I could do was look and cry.
For a long time after that, I couldn't even walk past that room without wishing I could run. I love my grandma so dearly and I was deeply and mortally terrified all the same. When I would go in the room, I would avoid even looking at the side of the bed where she laid. But I could feel it. I don't know what I feel, but I feel something. Even now, when I sit on her bed (which belongs to someone else now) I think about her laying there so still.
It isn't just people. I remember when our great dog, Fergus, died and my little sister sat there petting him long after. I did reach out and touch his shoulder and I recoiled as if burned. I couldn't stand the emptiness. I was terrified.
Not exactly a ray of sunshine either, was it? I am being nice though and that's all I promised. This was an interesting subject to explore for me. It brought to mind many things that I'll mull over. I don't think I'll post them, but I'm glad I got to look at this fear of mine.
How do you feel about death? Tell about your philosophy of after-life.
Hmmm.... not the easiest pick to be starting at midnight, but I'm going for it.
{WARNING: Macabre content in this post. Read at your own risk. I considered editing parts, but this is for me. I want to remember this.}
I believe that after this life we have the opportunity to be reunited with loved ones. I believe I will carry with me everything I've learned in this life and that I will have the opportunity to continue growing and learning. I believe in resurrection and eternal families.
I am not afraid of death. The dying part could be another story, but we'll cross that bridge when it comes. That being said, I am terribly afraid of death around me. I have always had a terrible fear of cemeteries. As an adult, I'm more or less over that one, but as a child I would hide my face if we even drove by a cemetery. I was terribly disturbed by them and I don't know why.
Dead bodies hold a very deep rooted fear for me. I remember being at a funeral when I was about 14 years old. It was for my sister's then-boyfriend's brother, Roman, who was killed in an avalanche. I watched person after person go to his casket and hold his hand, stroke his face, or touch him in some manner. I was absolutely mortified. I didn't understand it and, frankly, I still don't.
My grandma passed away almost three years ago. We tried to get there in time to say goodbye, but she passed just before we arrived. The grief in the room was tangible, and I watched my mom and dad go and kiss her and touch her face and stroke her hair while they cried. I stood against the wall with my arms folded. My mom said to me, "Do you want to hold her hand or anything? She's still warm...?" I felt like my eyes bulged at the suggestion. I shook my head vehemently and stayed put. In a few minutes I walked over to her thinking maybe I could do it. I even reached my hand out, but in the end, all I could do was look and cry.
For a long time after that, I couldn't even walk past that room without wishing I could run. I love my grandma so dearly and I was deeply and mortally terrified all the same. When I would go in the room, I would avoid even looking at the side of the bed where she laid. But I could feel it. I don't know what I feel, but I feel something. Even now, when I sit on her bed (which belongs to someone else now) I think about her laying there so still.
It isn't just people. I remember when our great dog, Fergus, died and my little sister sat there petting him long after. I did reach out and touch his shoulder and I recoiled as if burned. I couldn't stand the emptiness. I was terrified.
Not exactly a ray of sunshine either, was it? I am being nice though and that's all I promised. This was an interesting subject to explore for me. It brought to mind many things that I'll mull over. I don't think I'll post them, but I'm glad I got to look at this fear of mine.
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