January

Michael,

I must admit that each time I've sat down to begin another year of my cheesy blogging to you, I've questioned if I should keep doing it. I've known I want to keep writing...But should I keep putting all this crap out there for everyone to read?
I'm fully aware of the fact that all my writings are for no one else but me...and maybe perhaps for Andi to read someday. They're diary-like details that I don't presume people want or need to know about. And they reveal thoughts that perhaps paint me out to be a very one-sided person...kinda' obsessed, off-balance, whatever you want to call it.
But here's the deal--My life may go on, (and God will it to do so,) but hopefully these writings will show that in spite of the busy days, the preoccupations, the new places and faces, you are alive. You are alive in me because you'll always be a part of my being, and you're alive in Andi because she IS you. In more ways than one, my dear.



I remembered the other day how much you loved the movie, Return to Me. The only part I really remember from it is the scene when the dog is so upset because he misses his "mom" so much. It obviously leads me to think of Harry and how he really isn't the same dog without you around. I've sort of been in denial about our dog--As crazy as this sounds, it's almost too painful to acknowledge the fact that he's gained a freaking ton of weight and walks around in misery all day long. I've always been bad at taking him out in the winter. It was so nice when you'd come home from work on those dark winter days, put Harry's leash on, and run him through the neighborhood. Oh, Michael...he misses you. I try to compensate by mauling him at night in efforts to give him attention. But to no avail...He'd rather sleep at the bottom of the bed.
Just love him to pieces, that dog. Always our "first born in the wilderness."
A few weeks ago I caught him bein' his old self, and I just gotta' share it:


The month of January has somehow slipped right on by. It's been a time of change and contemplation for me. I was glad to start a class for the masters program I want to get into. Pretty weird going back to school right now...But it's kind of nice, too. I aced my first exam this week and was pretty stoked...I wanted to run home and tell you all about it.
I started up my grief support group again, but I won't be doing that anymore because of my class. I'll miss it a lot--Those people will be such a big part of this whole experience for me. I hope to stay in touch with them.
The week of our birthdays was kind of crazy. I really wanted to have your family over for your 33rd celebration, and I was so glad I did. It wouldn't have been your day without them. The best part was when your Aunt Ruthie walked in the door as a surprise from Colorado. I love your fam and was so glad to be around them that day. I got your favorite cake from Dick's, complete with Superman embellishments.











Here's Andi and me blowing out my 29 candles this month:











And my favorite Lydia--











So grateful to my awesome friends and family who gave it their all to make my own birthday a special one. Really hate feeling like a pity party, but that doesn't make me less grateful or appreciative of the awesome circle of support I have. I went skiing with Dad and Lydia in efforts to celebrate my 29th. (And as typical, I spent much of my time on the mountain being reminded of memories made.) I also took advantage of the time to indulge myself in my favorites--Shopping for my house, getting Chinese take-out, cuddling with Ands.
Speaking of our girl--I gotta' write down her latest:

She's been calling Marion's dog "Ducy" (instead of "Lucy", ya know) and she walks around talking about that dang dog all the time. Don't know what it is about "Ducy."

Lately she's been talking about you by no prompting of my own. When "Nemo" has been on, she's often said, "Daddy watch Nemo...house!" (Saying that she remembers watching Nemo with you at our old house.)
She's also mentioned several times a memory she has swimming with you. When she sees a pool or when she's in my big tub she'll say to me, "Daddy swim! Pool!" So glad she can recognize these things on her own.

She's discovered my name and loves to call me "Disa." I have no idea where this came from. One night she hugged my neck and said, "Disa doves me!" (after I told her how much I loved her.)

She loves "Bon"--Grandma Luke--and was very concerned when "Bon" was sick a while ago.

She loves her cousins...especially Connor...and often hugs them when they're around.

She said her first full sentence to me when she said, "Mama, where are you going? Don't leave me!" Wouldn't have been my first choice of words to say...I hate leaving her...but was so proud to see her articulate her words so well.

She's been into drawing a lot lately and will often come to me with drawings that look very much like the objects she claims them to be. I've been impressed.

She loves to tell me about "scary parts" in movies and in describing them, she'll say, "Mom, Mom, scary part! Raahhhhh!" And then she'll insert a growl or something.

She has built up a habit that will always define her funny little personality that loves to sort, organize, and territorialize everything she has. She stuffs everything in her "kitchen" cupboards...sometimes even my kitchen cupboards or Grandma's kitchen cupboards. She'll put things in there like half-full sippy cups (gross), her blankets, toys, movies, hair clips, and shoes (sometimes mine.) You can tell that she often chooses their placements very carefully and if I attempt to move or touch her possessions, she gets very upset. I realize that isn't necessarily a cute thing, but it just goes to show you her dedication to this little habit she's developed. And to me it shows her dad's personality shining through. Sometimes she is so YOU it astounds me. She can be so damn determined. When she makes her mind up about something, there's no changing it. She'll be cordial to people when she wants to be cordial. She doesn't concede too much without a fight. She hates having to share anything with anyone....just as all two-year olds. And, in the same regard, she loves so purely and completely. She loves to give kisses and hug. She loves to make people laugh.

I love watching her...How she says please and thank you all the time. She loves to go to the library and look around with me. She's so smart and shows it everyday in her pretend play. She loves church, playgroup, her grandparents, and her cousins. She'll often say after such activities, "I had fun, Mom!"

She's just my girl...our girl...and I love her tons. She's my world, my family, my connection to you. She's my source of happiness and meaning.

Which is why when I look forward to things like my upcoming trip with Bethany, I can't help but feel serious anxiety. I hate hate hate leaving her. In leaving her, I leave my world behind me. I leave you behind me. And as crazy as it all is, I can't help but think about the result of you leaving us for your last trip.
I'll save that crap for my trip to the mental institution, though. Heaven knows I could use it! Seriously, though, I will say the value of that kind of help has become more appealing to me as of late. I have my times that really help me understand why people need psychological help.


Here are a few more pics of the last few weeks--











































When I look at these pictures, when I think of my daily life lately and the new activities I've been a part of, when I think of how much I've accomplished the past months, how far I've come and still how much I still struggle....I can't help but think to myself that I am a very different person from what you once knew me as. And in a way, that makes me so sad. I hate that we both have to learn and change and grow without each other. I just have to tell myself that somehow in the end, it'll all work together. By the time we see each other next, we may be different, we may be better, and we'll sure as heck have a lot of stories to tell each other.

In the meantime, I still think of you at least every few minutes of my existence. I still think about funny memories like how we used to make our million-dollar bets over everything. To this day, I'm pretty sure I owe you a few billion dollars.
And I still think of you when I need to spit out my gum...how you'd always just put your hand out for me to spit it in.
I think of you as I try to indulge in movie watching without you...and how I love it more than ever because it reminds me of my old life with you.
I think of you when I open up our old Ensigns that have your annotations in them--Like when I found Elder Holland's talk, "Broken Things to Mend," and discovered your many writings strewn across the page. Very appropro, wouldn't you say? A great example of how often I feel you guiding and helping me.
And the other day I thought of you as I heard some scottish bagpipes. You remember how you wanted to wear a kilt to our wedding? That's my Michael.

Yes, I think of you.
And I honor you when I hear my mom say how you were the rock and strength of our family. I honor you when I plan my finances, go to school, run my ass off in training for my races, and mostly I honor you in caring for Ands.
We love you~

_____________________________

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions."
--Rainer Maria Rilke

"A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the "why" for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any 'how.'" -Victor Frankl

“To have a grievance is to have a purpose in life.”

"You'll find that once you are working in harmony with your true purpose, your life will unfold in seemingly miraculous ways. You will finally discover what it means to live a life of Abundance and Happiness."