Ten months...

I can't even begin to wrap my head around the places I have been over the past ten months.  I have dealt with situations that couldn't have happened without the complication of the crash that transferred Madie to a new mission and left Taylor on the brinks of death only to be saved by Bailee.
 To be a witness of his miraculous recovery, and to see the far reaching details of countless people who have supported our family in hundreds of different ways is mind boggling.  

 For example, I haven't been one to deep clean with any regularity at all, but we purchased a new cleaning system this week and as I was cleaning my room a couple of days ago, there were areas like in the closet where the dust was unbelievably thick.  As I was cleaning other areas like my blinds and window sills I thought "these aren't  as bad as I would have thought they should be." 
The thought came that probably when all the people were in my home helping with anything and everything while I was in a daze and then in Las Vegas, there was probably someone who decided to clean these areas.  

It made me stop and wonder how many unnoticed things had been cleaned or done that I hadn't really even been conscience of?  I thought of the meals, the cleaning, the ears and hearts that have listened, the rides offered, etc. The amount of help with the wedding is still overwhelming to me.  I think of how my girls still living at home were supported in myriads of ways.  All the different people who served and helped each of my grown children. The service offered to Taylor as he recovered over several months, is beyond my ability to grasp.  

I was humbled by my lack of acknowledgement for all the many, many  blessings that have been showered upon our family.  It wasn't that I was unaware, and yet I didn't really grasp the depth of the support. 

I thought of the headstone that Larry and I were designing yesterday for Madie and that we wanted to incorporate the sentence that has come to represent her. What started from a simple piece of paper hand written and taped to her bedroom mirror  "Kindness is the essence of Greatness" has come to mean so much to those of us left behind... I can only imagine how shocking it is for her to see the impact of this little act she performed, and yet ironically that her family would be the recipient of this very concept because of her passing and Taylor's injuries.

I have been working again on focusing on gratitude, and it does help, and yet there are moments when it doesn't matter how hard I try the dam is bursting and I can't contain the water any more. Today would be a prime example of that. 
 I woke up, felt great, exercised, was writing the above entry when Wendy Edredge arrived for a visit and trip to the Temple.  Sounds like a pretty ideal day, and yet there were times  when I felt this surge of emotions, tried to contain them, and eventually after several attempts the dam broke and I sobbed. 
 After recomposing myself and arriving home I  discover my computer wasn't working. I tried several things, decided to call Sterling and we tried more things. Eventually it rebooted and decided it would work again. I'm so thankful it wasn't a bigger problem, and yet there went another couple of more hours of not accomplishing anything that a mother needs to do just to maintain some type of order. 

I later had a long chat with a child, feeling happy to reconnect, only moments later to hear some very disturbing news that has left me feeling very vulnerable again late this evening.  
I must confess this isn't the normal tribute to Madie, 

but is a good conceptualization of how my days often seem to go.  

 I put a status on facebook a few minutes ago, and then decided to see what I had written this morning and as I read it I realized this is why my life feels so unpredictable right now. 
 I think my status is fitting to the emotional extremes that my days entail, which often make me wonder if I am going crazy. 

Facebook status: As much as I want to say that today has been good, it started good, it had good moments, but for the most part it was just another roller coaster ride.  I am feeling too old for the amusement park that doesn't seem to have an exit...

The good news is, tomorrow will bring a new ride and hope of the rainbow after the storm, which was how my morning started with this rainbow that was spotted that looked as though it went over our home...

lyrics from the song "If I die Young" that I heard for the first time yesterday only to find out that Madie used to sing this with MarShae. 

"Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh, And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no  Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby"



 Thanks for the rainbow Madie this morning on the 

10 month anniversary of your passing...

Rainbows...

I loved rainbows when I was a teenager, and shared this love with my best friend, Karen Esplin.  One morning about a month after my father died in 2011, I was driving to the Houston Temple with Madie and told her about my love for rainbows and a song that Karen and I would listen to called "I'll build you a rainbow".  It was about a boy who's mother was dying and she told him that once she was gone she would build him a rainbow so he would know she was still close and watching over him. Karen and I listened to this song over and over and cried our little teenage eyes out.
 The chorus went "I'll build you a rainbow, way up high above, send down the sunbeams all plum full of love, sprinkle down raindrops teardrops of joy, I'll be happy in heaven watching over my boy."

Well as soon as I finished telling Madie this story we turned the corner and there was this gigantic rainbow coming up from the little road we were driving on.  Amazed I started crying and told her "look Madie my dad built me a rainbow!"  She was the only child I had ever shared this part about me with and after she died I wondered if she would build me a rainbow.  We happen to live in a very wooded area and so it is very hard to see a rainbow where we live and is a rare occurrence for me to see one.  But there have been 3 times since her death that I have seen one, each time involving traveling.
The first rainbow was discovered the morning we were leaving Taylor in the hospital in Las Vegas to fly home and have Madie's funeral.   My friend Crystina Scott spotted it as we were driving to the hospital to tell Taylor and Bailee goodbye.  I would have probably missed it because I was in a daze most of the time at that point.  The rainbow was super wide but not tall cause it wasn't raining and went completely across the freeway.  

The second rainbow was when our airplane touched down in Houston returning from Taylor and Bailee's wedding in Arizona. I would have completely missed it but a little boy behind me said "Look there's a rainbow and I opened up my screen and sure enough this large rainbow stretched across the sky but was gone once we turned the corner on the runway. 
The third one was as I was driving into the Provo area  where Madie went to BYU from Salt Lake earlier in September.

 It was early evening the day I had arrived in Utah to spend time with Taylor, Bailee and friends and to have their open house in Utah.  The rainbow was very small when I first noticed it and as we got closer to Provo it grew larger and larger.  The really bizarre thing was we were en-route to a  concert at BYU by Audra McDonald, and her closing song she sang was "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"
 I came across this picture on facebook yesterday,

The knoll is called Sugar Knoll

 that was captured this past weekend in the vicinity of the crash site,and decided to do some investigating to see how close it was to the actual location, and there it was visible from the crash site.

The Sugar Knoll is on the right side by the mountains that are in shadow.

 Coincidence, some might think bit I choose to see it as gift to help ease my grieving heart.
As often is the case in life it is in looking back that we see things line up in miraculous ways. I never realized all those years ago how rainbows would become a very personal witness to me of God's tender mercies to help me feel like he knew that I needed a little bit of encouragement and how poignant these lyrics would become for me personally .

This song was shared with me today and was perfect words for this post.   LOVE IT!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NJqUN9TClM


Madie, thanks for building me rainbows and letting me see them at very opportune moments, and as our prophet Thomas S. Monson has stated, there are no coincidences in life..

Struggling with Sacrifice

I have been contemplating on many things over the past few days.,  One being a feeling of trying to come to terms with the personal sacrifice I struggle with daily on losing Madie.

  I can see many blessings, and miracles and wonderful lessons that I have personally learned, but at the end of the day, the lessons behind, she is still gone, and my life has been forever altered.  As I work to figure out how to bridge the two different worlds of my life before Madie died and since I find that it is like having two gears spinning in opposite directions and when they touch there is just a collision of the two.  I often try to slow them down working to find a way to mesh the two and it seems to work only to find that it isn't permanent.  I often feel that my sacrifice for all this good is too much for me and I succumb to grief.. I just really miss her and realize in a very tangible way that as the years go by that I will continue to miss her dearly. 

 I believe it is because she is a part of me, and that part is dead.  So whatever band aids or diversions of creating or whatever I do to escape these deep feelings, I still come back to feeling like part of me is dead..

I have tried to look at this from a different perspective.  I know she is in a great place, busy and working and learning.  I don't have to worry about her any more.  Those things help but I still miss her in ways that can't be explained.  I wonder if with the wedding over that was a part of the accident if I don't feel like the last door has closed and now I just get to figure this thing out.   Missing her in ways that can't be spoken.  Feeling like I have been hitting my head against a wall this week so I am just going to let it flow, so that I can see where I will go from here.  

I came across this today and it gave me some comfort. I pray to be able to become the person I need to be.

 I think sometimes I just have to allow the grief to sit and not try and move through it so quickly... That is my latest challenge ...

9/11.. Insights into my feelings on grieving

Today is my mother's birthday and also a day  as a nation when we stop and remember life and the fragileness of the illusions that we create of safety and security.  The idea that life will always be how we envisioned it.
 9/11 is a day that we realize collectively what it feels like to be vulnerable, a feeling that has permeated my life since Madie died..

My mother, Madeline and I in Kanab Ut,  for Larry's sister Vickie's memorial service. The only other time Madie had been to Kanab, where her body was taken care of after the accident in Orderville Ut.

I find myself facing the unknown again, feeling precarious now that the big events that were in the works when Madie died are over. 

 The wedding has happened,

the new babies have come,

Samuel Hyrum Morris 6/27/2013

Belle Elise Maxon 6/29/2013

 the hype has worn down and I am trying to figure out the direction I should move my focus to.

  I have so much that needs my attention, rooms to clean, bathrooms to remodel, the front of our home needs to be completely redone, and yet none of these seem right at this point. I also have my girls into a new school year with the adjustments of junior high for Marielle and scheduling demands for MarShae.  Maybe I need to take a month and just get my bearings. 

 I often feel pressure to fit into some kind of box. I imagine it is self imposed, kind of like there is some right way to grieve and I need to do it right.  I wonder if it has anything to do with the perfectionist side of me, who knows...

 I do know this thing called grief is something that almost everyone gets their turn at, and yet there is a small part of our culture and conditioning that believes with time, it is something that will magically get better.  I don't know that I will ever really get over losing Madie, but I do believe I am learning how to live with the reality that she is gone.

 I realize I need to go through this process of grieving, yet I also enjoy regular diversions, something new to look forward to. They seem to help avoid the slide into a deep cavern of depression.  Even so, I have come to  believe that grief mirrors depression, and yet is different. 

 There are the feelings of apathy, and not wanting to engage in the trivial things of life that is often a battle, yet at other times seem to be okay and almost enjoyable again. With the fun experiences I find an inner conflict of feeling guilty if I find myself having a great time, thoughts like "how can you be enjoying yourself with Madie not here as a part of your life?"  As her mother I feel like I am betraying my loyalty to her, hence the internal conflict.. 

Grief at times is debilitating.  At other times I feel almost normal, and yet in the recesses of my mind I know that I am dealing with a pretty abnormal situation.  This doesn't mean that I feel picked on or sorry for myself, (well sometimes I do feel sorry for myself because I don't like what has happened, and wish that Madie was still here.)  But I mean sorry for myself,  like I have the worst life ever, or this is the worst thing that has ever happened to anyone.  It may be the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I am grateful to know that I can't think of anything worse that could happen... well, except to have lost more children or to be in excruciating pain and dealing with the lose as well, or violence tied to the death. So it could be worse, but to lose Madie at the prime of her life, when I felt like I had given her everything I could for her to fly on her own, is really hard. 
 I have wondered if it would have been easier if it had been a few years later, when I was more used to her being gone, and better adjusted to not having her around.  I guess a few months helped me get used to it in some way, but I hate that the last time she was home to visit we didn't get much time together.  I hate that I can't remember hugging her goodbye, or even much about the last morning I was with her.  I remember the night before, and think it might be that I had a headache that morning when I was driving her to the airport, so I don't have much of a memory of her leaving.  I do remember the last time I skyped with her and how excited she was about serving a mission.  She kept saying "I finally know what I am supposed to do!" Then she would roll her eyes, classic Madie 

I was asked at one point if I thought it would be harder to have lost her after she was married and had children.  My immediate reaction was "No!" and yet I don't know what that would feel like.  I do feel like it would help though to have children that were hers, that I could love and a piece of her to live on, but I am sure there would be complications with that loss that would be very difficult that I don't have to face with losing her at this stage of her life. 
 I have also been asked if it would have been easier to lose her when she was young, and again my response was NO!  I don't know what that would feel like, but I am grateful to have had the 18 1/2 years with her.  I imagine in some ways it would be double edged.  There would be less invested emotionally and physically in a younger child, but then there would be all the things that I wouldn't get to experience with her that I was able to experience with Madie.  
This has taught me a few things. 
 First, it is impossible to know what someone else is going through.  Even if there are similarities, it is still not possible.  We can have some understanding of loss, or of grief, and of deep penetrable sadness, but every life situation, challenge and prior experience creates a different path for the individual. I have learned that I can't really judge or understand someone else's suffering, but I can offer an ear to listen, a smile, a hug, a note or a text. I can also pray for them, which I have felt the power of personally. Sometimes I have learned it is best to leave them alone, and that is the hardest part for me is to know what is the right approach. 

Because of this, I do understand that others may not know what to do with me for the same reason.  I have found for me that listening is very helpful. I have learned that people are really great, and they want to see that I am doing well.  I want to please them, and yet at times it is impossible to pretend.  I have always been a very sensitive person, and my emotions are easily brought to the surface, and yet it isn't anyone's fault or a bad thing if it happens when I am talking with them. (just to clear the air on that one)  It actually means that I trust you with my feelings to let them come up.  Otherwise I would do a lot more stuffing down of what might be on the surface, and not allow myself to be anything but stoic when around others. Sometimes it just isn't possible the emotions just come tumbling out.  Allowing me to express my feelings and talk about Madie or how I am doing is therapeutic.  I sometimes worry when I am away from someone,  if it wasn't too much talk about me and my problems, or if they were overwhelmed or really uncomfortable.  I trust that they will be blessed for having listened to me. 
I often remind myself that this is a phase of my life right now that I have no experience with, so even if I am writing, or talking to myself, it helps to just let my brain flow. If someone else is listening often it flows better, bringing clarity of where I am at that point in my journey. 

Another thing that I have discovered is that there aren't exactly stages of grief.  I think there is just more a sense of in and out of different aspects, but getting angry once doesn't mean it won't come boiling out again.   I remember a lady asking me once what stage of grief I was in and which ones I had been through. I tried to explain that for me it is layers and layers of different emotions that come and go  that I revisit at different times depending on the circumstances.  At times I am in denial, like this is someone else's life that I am discussing.  Other times I am angry or frustrated.  Sometimes I am despondent. Nothing sounds good, or worth putting energy into.Then there are moments when I have a lot of stored grief that is about to come boiling over. It's like a dam that has just broke, with all the force behind the rushing water, spilling out.  I often try to hold back this eruption, unless I am in a private setting. This is the really ugly kind, (not eyes tearing up or even a bit of crying) no I mean the I can't breath because it hurts so deeply. Tears that are filled with despair and sorrow, I have come to understand the term "wailing women or mothers."  
Then there are times when life feels kind of normal and really okay.  This is a really nice break, but so far seems to be temporary moments, although they do seem to stretch for longer periods of time then they used to.  I tell myself frequently, "life is a series of choices, each day choosing how you will live with what challenges or opportunities life has presented."

 I have discovered that there are so many ways to grieve.  I see it in my own family and in others.  I have often wondered why I was directed by the Lord to be so open about my journey, because there are times I want to go hide some place and not let anyone in.  But as I really think about doing that, and promptings I received right after Madie died, I remember that complete private grieving isn't to be my journey.  I think the Lord knew for me to find healing, that being open would be best. I believe for this reason he gave me the prompting that writing about my journey would bless other peoples lives, but it was my choice. 
 He knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't write for myself, because I haven't ever been prone to record my life experiences, but that it would help me if I wrote consistently.  So by my thinking I could bless others, it would give me purpose behind writing.  I hope that in sharing it has benefited others as well, because there are times it is difficult to open up again with the ramblings coursing through my brain. Honestly it is hard to say, "this is still really excruciating, and I don't know if it will ever be something that isn't broken within my heart."
 Ultimately though I think the writing has been a blessing for me. 

 There is so much in my life that I need to be grateful for, and as often seems the case, it is easy to focus on the lose instead of the blessings. That's when I have chats with myself and with Heavenly Father. Gratitude in any form usually helps to some degree. 
 Since I have been in a what's been hard mode today,  I will end with one more. It has been hard to observe the effects on each family member, and yet feel so helpless to do very much to sustain them through their grieving. Again I have seen countless angels who have filled in offering help or happiness where needed.
 I will be forever grateful for Taylor's miraculous recovery, and yet it has been challenging as his mother to see him go through something of this magnitude, and yet feel so helpless and dependent on others to take care of him and to be removed from his journey of healing both physically and emotionally. I will be forever grateful most especially to the Booth's  and Bailee who cared for him in very personal ways as he slowly gained his independence back. There are so many people who have added support to this being so much easier than it would have been. I am often amazed at the many different things that have been offered that has lightened this burden. I am grateful!

                                          I continually pray that my family will heal. 
                                                   Each member in their own way.
           That we will be stronger and closer for having gone through this experience.

 I ask my mother, on this her birthday to be close by and help me grow into who I need to become.

 I continually pray to see Madie in the details of our lives and am so grateful for all the little coincidences that remind me of her that course throughout each of my days. 
 I pray for guidance and direction  to know what I can do, to help each of us get back to the presence of our Heavenly Father, and to be reunited with our family members who are now gone. That each one of us can find peace in our Savior's Atonement as we go through this opportunity to become more like him... 

I guess that's the journey of life...

I miss you now more than ever before, but I trust that God will open a door...

I have felt this little black rain cloud hovering over me for 

the past few days and came across these profound words 

today so wanted to share them. They seemed perfect and 

gave me the understanding that I needed today.


Also, Taylor and Bailee gave me this poem  that I added to 

this picture that I love of Madie.

Saints for All Seasons

BY PRESIDENT DIETER F. UCHTDORF

Second Counselor in the First Presidency

I have childhood memories of a part of the world that could serve as a picture postcard for the changing seasons of the year. Each passing month was glorious and wonderful. During a perfect winter day, pristine snow blanketed the mountains and city streets. Spring brought cleansing rains and the explosion of green-dressed life. The lazy skies of summer served as a pleasant blue canvas for the blaze of a bright sun. And spectacular autumn transformed nature into brilliant shades of orange, yellow, and red. As a child, I loved each season, and to this day, I love the character and uniqueness of each one.

We have seasons in our lives as well. Some are warm and pleasant. Others are not. Some of the days in our lives are as beautiful as pictures in a calendar. And yet there are days and circumstances that cause heartache and may bring into our lives deep feelings of despair, resentment, and bitterness.

I am sure at one time or another we have all thought it would be nice to take up residence in a land filled only with days of picture-perfect seasons and avoid the unpleasant times in between.

But this is not possible. Nor is it desirable.

As I look over my own life, it is apparent that many of the times of greatest growth have come to me while passing through stormy seasons.

Our all-wise Heavenly Father knew that for His children to grow into the beings they were designed to become, they would need to experience seasons of adversity during their sojourn in mortality. The Book of Mormon prophet Lehi said that without opposition, “righteousness could not be brought to pass” (2 Nephi 2:11). Indeed, it is life’s bitterness that allows us to recognize, contrast, and appreciate its sweetness (see D&C 29:39; Moses 6:55).

President Brigham Young put it this way: “All intelligent beings who are crowned with crowns of glory, immortality, and eternal lives must pass through every ordeal appointed for intelligent beings to pass through, to gain their glory and exaltation. Every calamity that can come upon mortal beings will be suffered … to prepare them to enjoy the presence of the Lord. … Every trial and experience you have passed through is necessary for your salvation.”¹

The question is not whether we will experience seasons of adversity but how we will weather the storms. Our great opportunity during the ever-changing seasons of life is to hold fast to the faithful word of God, for His counsel is designed not only to help us weather the storms of life but also to guide us past them. Our Heavenly Father has given His word through His prophets—precious knowledge designed to lead us through the challenges of difficult seasons toward the unspeakable joy and brilliant light of eternal life. It is an important part of our life’s experience to develop the strength, courage, and integrity to hold fast to truth and righteousness despite the buffeting we may experience.

Those who have entered the waters of baptism and received the gift of theHoly Ghost have set their feet on the path of discipleship and are charged to follow steadily and faithfully in the footsteps of our Savior.

The Savior taught that the sun rises “on the evil and on the good, and … rain [falls] on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5:45). Sometimes we cannot understand why difficult, even unfair, things happen in life. But as followers of Christ, we trust that if we “search diligently, pray always, and be believing, … all things shall work together for [our] good, if [we] walk uprightly” (D&C 90:24; emphasis added).

As members of His Church, as Saints, we serve joyfully and willingly in all weather and in all seasons. And as we do so, our hearts become filled with hallowed faith, healing hope, and heavenly charity.

Still, we will have to pass through all seasons—both pleasant and painful. But no matter the season, as followers of Jesus the Christ, we will rest our hope upon Him as we walk toward His light.

In short, we are Saints of God, determined to learn of Him, to love Him, and to love our fellowman. We are pilgrims on the blessed road of discipleship, and we will walk steadfastly toward our heavenly goal.

Therefore, let us be Saints in spring, summer, fall, and winter. Let us be Saints for all seasons. 

I Was Able to Let Go of My Sorrow

By Juan Zhu

The author is from Taiwan.

When my friends Brother Chen and his wife were baptized into our ward, I was overjoyed. A year after their baptism, they were sealed in the temple, and their son who had passed away before they joined the Church was sealed to them. It was wonderful to see the Chens grow in the gospel.

Then Brother Chen was killed in a car accident the next year. Following the accident, his death seemed to always be on my mind and often haunted my dreams. I woke up in tears and asked over and over again, “Why? Why does the Lord allow this kind of tragedy to happen? Why does such a thing have to happen to this beautiful family?” One day, when I was struggling with these questions, I picked up a lesson manual and read these words from President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985):

“If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity. But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective. …

“Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?”¹

At that moment, I decided to let go of my sorrow and look into the promised and possible future. I saw in my mind’s eye Brother Chen happily reunited with his family. That sight brought me peace. I know that Heavenly Father will give us the wisdom and courage to face adversities.