New Beginnings

It's been a year now. Tanna came to me and stated that she wanted to free herself from the prison of heroin and the chains of meth. My eyes rolled in my head. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I've heard it all before. "I'll do better mom. I promise." Then right back on the streets she would go.

Except this time.

She got clean.

Drugs seem like a distant past now. I (at times) forget the stress and anguish and fear that enveloped me. The more time marches forward, the more dream-like (albeit nightmarish) the memories become.

To say I'm proud of her is an understatement. I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again. 

I haven't had the best of weeks. Yes, It's only Thursday. New beginnings can be hard can't they? I lay in bed last night and re-ran the success of my family through my mind. Initially, I wanted to blog about my daughter. However, I found my thoughts turning to my entire family and I wanted to share a bit of each.

Here goes.

Tyson has had the kids over the last couple of days. I watch him as a father. He rocks this "daddy" business. As I watch MY little boy father his little Bill and Hailey, my heart fills with pride. I see the man in him come out in staggering proportion. Tyson is learning and growing into his leadership. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

The LonePeak Hotshots would be less Hot-Shotty without my Goose. The movie Only The Brave was released. Starring Josh Brolin, Miles Teller and Jeff Bridges, the movie is (according to IMDb)  "Based on the true story of the Granite Mountain Hotshots, a group of elite firefighters who risk everything to protect a town from a historic wildfire."

I was so excited to go. I was going. I was going. I was GOING.

I didn't go.

I had gone to a different movie and the previews to Only The Brave played. I saw the firefighters dressed in the green pants and yellow shirts and bawled DURING THE PREVIEWS. Shelby was aghast. "You can't go to the movie."

The other day I was telling Mark how Goose worries me. He's in charge now. The crew looks to him for guidance and (at times) it scares me. Mark reassured me that Goose will not EVER put his guys in harms reach. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

Daulton begins a new job. She has been working her dream in a job with a Top 5 accounting firm. She has made a name for herself and I watch while other firms zig and zag to recruit Daulton.

This girl put herself through school and got her Masters in Accounting. People get their Masters Degree all the time right? I watched Daul go to school. I watched her self-discipline with wonder. The girl BECAME. There is no other way to describe her. She is the most humble person I know. I say that ferociously. DAULTON IS THE MOST HUMBLE PERSON I KNOW. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

I mentioned that Tanna is free of drugs. Have I mentioned that she is going to be "Mommy" now? Well, she is. Baby Tyson Trenton Jackson is due in a couple of weeks. We are having contractions, so I look to see him come any day now. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

As of Tuesday, Shelby is a student at UVU. She is about to finalize her degree in photography. She is creative and has an eye for the lens. Many have told me how good she is. She will be known for her hard work; for her ability to see beyond what is in front of her. She will rock the photography world. You just hide and watch. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

Jaden is beginning the end of High School. He has a lifetime ahead. EVERY SINGLE door is open for him to simply step through. His intelligence is inspiring and when he lassos his ability? Let me just say this boy will change the world. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

Mark is forever seeking new beginnings. He is fearless when faced with change. This guy exudes confidence in his ability to make things right. And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

The world is full of selfishness and sadness and loneliness and heartache. You can hurt beyond understanding. When your eyes fall on the cracks and fissures in the landscape of life, there lies love and hope and belief. That's pretty cool, right?

It's a new day for the Deason family. Thank you Tyson, Goose, Daulton, Tanna, Shelby, Jaden and Mark for the gifts you so willingly share - for the new beginnings placed at your feet and your ability to make them a slave to your spirit.

And I'm thrilled. I'm happy. I believe. I have hope again.

Let's Talk About Love

I've not been able to write for a bit. Tons of garbage has recently visited the Deason home and I've been sad and sad and sad. No happy writings from this gal. No way. Nuh-uh. Ain't gonna happen.

On November 4th, I found myself with Tanna, Jerico and our beloved Rottweiler, Maui, at Alpine Animal Hospital. We were told that after 11 years, Maui would not be coming home. It was awful. Beyond awful.

11 days later we found ourselves at the same vet with our 12-year-old Pit. Locc didn't get to come home, either. Heartbreaking.

Man! I miss these dogs.

In September I was grabbing groceries when my phone rang. It was Mark. "Hey. When you get in your car give me a call."

Oh boy. This can't be good. This can't be good. This can't be good.

It wasn't.

"Rick just called me. Aunt Charlene is in the hospital and it doesn't look good. I don't think she'll go home."

He was right. She didn't.

Our beloved Aunt Charlene passed away.

We were spreading the word through the family, and Aunt Mel could not be reached. I don't know who it was. One of the boys? I think it was. However it came to be, SOMEBODY went to her house in Bakersfield, California to tell the horribly sad news about Aunt Charlene, and found our dear Aunt Mel had passed away on her couch.

Rick was gracious enough to drive all the way from Boise to grab me and take me to Bakersfield to attend Aunt Mel's funeral. It was beautiful.

Thanksgiving weekend found the family gathered again, in Boise, to celebrate the life of Aunt Charlene.

First, I have to say that I find funerals a bit joyous. I love to see family that I have neglected to touch base with throughout the year. Aren't we all guilty of this? "Tomorrow will come so I'll do it later." Tomorrow didn't come. I don't get to do it later. I hope against all hope that somehow they knew how much they meant to the entire family.

Tyson remembers Aunt Mel saying of Charlene, "She could have fun with a brown, paper bag."

That sums up Aunt Charlene. She would tell us stories of her shenanigans and we would howl with laughter. She would sheepishly grin and simply shrug her shoulders. That lady filled our hearts with love and laughter and joy BEYOND measure.

Aunt Mel was the youngest of the Deason-grown-up clan. EVERYONE loved Aunt Mel. Mel had a "presence" about her that you didn't even know you missed until she showed up to family events or gatherings and suddenly the family was made whole. She always made sure to personally greet each family member and have one-on-one conversations with each of us. Aunty M had a way of making each of us feel like we were loved the MOST.

Mark and I were talking about how each person in the world matters. We had recently read Andy Andrews philosophy of the "Butterfly Effect" and it rang true. We talked about how Charlene's humor carried this family and how something as simple as Mel's accent filled a room - and our hearts.

I'll miss them, you know. I'll miss the anticipation and excitement when I knew that I would get to see them. I will miss the laughter and joy I felt in their presence. I'll miss the hand-holding that each always offered me. I'll miss their voices. Their passion. Their love.

Most of all? I miss the era of my life when they were my age. My job was to run around chasing my little kids while they handled all the BIG stuff.

From the laughter of a child to the tears of a grown man
There's a thread that runs right through us all and helps us understand
As subtle as a breeze - that fans a flicker to a flame
From the very first sweet melody to the very last refrain...
Lets talk abut love
Let's talk about us
Lets talk about life
Lets talk about trust

Lets talk about love

Which Came First? The Chicken? The Egg?

Another Deason tied the knot. Sunday, October 1st, Dawn and Mike's youngest boy said "I do." Sean Paul Deason married Lindsey in (of course) a beautiful ceremony with a lovely bride coupled with an equally handsome groom. The magical moment was completed with their absolutely-adorable son, Micah.

Sean was always the "picky" one. He was picky about his clothes. He was picky about his food. He was picky about his hair, his toys, his smile, EVERYTHING. Having said all that, you must realize that Lindsey is absolutely wonderful for Sean to have "picked' her. Yep. She's a great mom, a beautiful human and has a heart to match her spirit. He is so lucky to have someone like her and (just so you know, Sean) if you mess this up we are keeping her and Micah and you'll be left on the curb.

For a short time, Dawn, Mike and family lived with us and I was given the take-care-of-all-eight-of-the-kids duty. Oh man. Did I earn my angel wings. My life consisted of feeding, laundry, housework and putting out fires with every corner turned. However, since Sean was the youngest and SO not what the other kids wanted tagging along in the imaginative soda shops or army-crawling-running-and-howling-with-laughter games, I enjoyed much one-on-one time with his creative imagination. To this day, it's such a bright spot when I can catch Sean alone and hear him talk of his hopes and dreams.

You probably are thinking "Man. Linnette sure relates Dawns kids to chickens." And that would be true. Sean was pretty dang young and at the table eating breakfast when Mark in all of his wisdom said "Sean! You're eating baby chickens." Oh boy. Sean howled and hollered and FORCEFULLY let us all know that without a shadow of a doubt he would NEVER eat eggs again. He wasn't kidding. To this day he isn't an egg fan. Thanks Mark.

Sean's cup overflows with talent. And smarts. And handsome-ness. And humor. And kindness. We are lucky to share the Deason name with this boy. Micah is lucky to call him "Daddy". Dawn and Mike are lucky to call him son and most important? Lindsey is lucky to call him "Honey".

Introducing the Deason family. Watch as they learn and grow and become.

My Desert Rose

This is the last birthday of the year. To be honest, I'm glad. I miss my little kids and every single STUPID birthday brings them further into adulthood with all the messiness that growing up brings. I hate that. I love seeing them grow and become. However, I absolutely despise disappointment that appears - whether it be brought on by bad choices or slung at them from someone else. I can fix hunger, tired kids, messes from falling, sibling fights. I absolutely cannot fix what others' have done to them out of selfishness.

So for now, my kids land on this year and (of course) will rock it brilliantly.

The final birthday of the year is my sweet Shelby. Today she turns 26.

Shelby was over last night. She lamented, "I'm closer to 30 than 20".

Shelby got that from me. (Sorry Shelb). When Shelby was little she always hated growing up. We used to constantly sing:

I don't want to grow up.
I'm a Toys"R"Us kid...

Shelby has always been my little social butterfly. When we would go grocery shopping I would put her in the cart and we would sing our "ABC's" while keeping our little fingers busy with signing as we sang. People had NO idea that I was saving them from "Hey! What's your name?" "Do you have a dog?" "What's your dogs name" What's your dads name" "What's your mom's name?" "I'm Shelbykardeason" "My dog is named Titleist." "He's part boxer and part golf ball."

"Shelby! Your name is Shelby KARELINE Deason. And Titleist is boxer and lab mix."

Then Shelby would look at me with her big blue eyes and little pixie face. "No Mommy. You're wrong."

I would sigh HEAVILY. "A B C D E F G..."

A few years back I made a movie for each of my kids as a Christmas gift. I found baby and family pictures to make each movie individual. I worked so hard to find the right music to make it all fit together. Taylor Swift had just released "The Best Day". Shelby and I shared that story. Shelby was in middle school and one day things were a bit rough for her. She came home in tears. We grabbed the keys and drove up to Midway, Utah. We window shopped, told stories and laughed. I don't remember exactly what happened at school. However, I DO remember spending the afternoon with my girl.

When the song was released, Shelby said "Listen to this song. It reminds me of you." That's the song I picked for her movie.

Mark knows his music. He understands theory and sound and how lyrics work. That guy was blessed with unmatched natural talent and then he coupled his talent with hard work and became a really, really, REALLY good musician.

Mark told me to listen to "Desert Rose" by Eric Johnson. I did. I thought to myself "I wish I had put this as Shelby's song.

Desert Rose dances, in heat of the sky
I must pattern my life about you;
You can make the most when the waters run dry.
Look into the well deep inside you. 

My Desert Rose
Born are the few,
Always with me,
A vision of you. 

Acrolith reflection, that floats through my dreams,
Arid is the dust underneath me;
Something far away, a mirage so it seems,
What I long to see, oh, could it be? 

My Desert Rose
Born are the few,
Always with me,
A vision of you. 

My Desert Rose
Born are the few,
Always with me,
Don't fade away.
Don't fade away.

That's my Shelby. Right there. She is a stunning beauty that blossoms in the heat and drought of Life. People look toward her light and imagine that they, too, can experience that kind of impassioned happiness.

I'm so stinking proud of her.

I have intimate knowledge of trials that have come her way. I have NEVER seen a child rise above bad adults coupled with bad adult behavior. Shelby did. Brilliantly. Life, death, pain, growth, loneliness, love. She captains it.

Happy birthday Shelby. You are my sunshine.

Begin Again

I love to read. I love paper and ink and the smell of printing. I love the creative thinking of authors and the graphic artists rendition behind the book jacket design. Most of all? I love starting a new book. It's tantamount to beginning a new adventure and I CAN'T WAIT to see how it all works out.

Mark and I took off on the motorcycle for our last big hoorah of the summer. There isn't much to do on the bike so I spend a ton of time lost in my own thoughts.

While enjoying the country-side, the wind and the sun my thoughts turned to me (surprise - yeah, it's ALL about me) and my disease. I try super hard not to give this "inconvenience" power, however, it keeps marching forward and I find myself focusing on icky thoughts more often.

Keira Knightley, Mark Ruffalo and Adam Levine star in a movie called "Begin Again". Google says:

"Gretta (Keira Knightley) and her songwriting partner/lover Dave (Adam Levine) head for New York when he lands a record deal with a major label. However, Gretta is suddenly left on her own when Dave gives in to the temptations that come with his newfound success. Things take a turn for the better for her when Dan (Mark Ruffalo), a disgraced record executive, discovers Gretta performing in a club. A mutually life-changing bond forms between the pair as they work together on Gretta's first album."

Shelby was visiting a while back and turned to this movie. I had not seen it before and since I'm a movie NUT, I sat and watched it with her. Oh man. I loved it.

A few years back, Mark asked me "If you could sing like anyone, who would it be?" Without skipping a beat I answered "Celine Dion".  At the time, I was REALLY into her and her music so the answer kinda came out like "duh".  Her voice is strong, vibrant and memorable. Yeah. I'd sing like her. Without a doubt.

I used to sing ALL THE TIME. I sang to the radio. I sang at my piano. I sang with music playing and without music. I sang to my babies, to my toddlers, to my kids. I sang in church, in my car, in my kitchen, in the shower, while I cooked or cleaned or mowed or slept. I sang. Albeit, I wasn't super good, but I so love music - so I sang.

I don't sing out loud any longer. My mouth muscles just don't work right. I can think the words, however, I can't get them out with the music. So I sing in silence.

I changed who I want to sing like. I'll take Keira. You'll have to watch the movie to understand. Her singing is soft, vulnerable, and simple -  no frills or fluff. Simple.

That's what new beginnings are about. Right? Simple. A thought becomes a step. A step becomes an action. An action leads to accomplishment. Simply begin.

According to Webster's Dictionary, the definition of beginning is:

1. the point in time and space at which something starts.

While riding the bike, this all went through my head. It might be a bit jumbled to you, however, it was clear to me. It's pretty simple. I can view what's ahead of me as an ending OR I can choose to embrace the new beginnings.

Maybe Meister Ekhart had it right when he said:

"And suddenly you know: It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings."

My Gift

In 2008 the movie Seven Pounds starring Will Smith (I love him) and Rosario Dawson (yeah, she's the bomb) was released.

According to IMDb

"A man with a fateful secret embarks on an extraordinary journey of redemption by forever changing the lives of seven strangers."

The movie stood out in my mind - not because it was so good (it was), not because the actors were so incredible (they were), not because the story was so wonderful (it was) - simply because I left the movie thinking "That's something Tyson would do."

Other friends/family saw the movie and time after time I heard "I thought about Tyson while watching that movie. That's something he would do." And he would. 

Tyson came into this world 2 months early and weighing in at 5 pounds 6 ounces. I think his heart made up 5 pounds of that weight. I've said it time and time again. Tyson is the most giving person I know. I know A LOT of people.

33 years ago, my life changed forever with the birth of my son. I thought I had it all handled and knew what to expect. Oh, the arrogance of being young. I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. A few years back I told Tyson "I made all my big mistakes with you." He simply nodded in affirmation. Then he grinned. That cute, dimpled smile that melts my heart and I knew all was forgiven.

Tyson does not live in the past. He has moved forward brilliantly with a catcher's mitt in one hand and his left hand free to toss back each curve ball that life has thrown his way. Things I have spent a lifetime learning - forgiveness, generosity, making a difference - come naturally to this kid.

As a young boy, Tyson took on the mentor role with each of his siblings. Time passed and he taught his friends that they could forever depend on him. To this day, if something is needed just ask Tyson. That's a legacy that many of us will not leave behind. Tyson will. With a vengeance.

In 2012 I wrote a blog called "Unsung Heroes". This post was about Tyson. Tagging along at the end of my writing is a copy of a poem by Rudyard Kipling "If". I have always related this poem to my boy.  The line "And never breathe a word about your loss" is how Tyson has chosen to live. Not too many people get the luxury of knowing the true man - the good, the bad and the ugly. It's all there, wrapped in a perfect package that I am lucky enough to call mine.

Happy Birthday, Tyson, may we all be a bit like you.

The Great Unknown

Today marks one year since Dad's passing. My relationship with Dad came late in life - not smeared with adolescence insolence or childhood insecurities. I have always vehemently stated that our relationship was perfect. We were uninterested in the hurt and pain that often accompanies family. He had NO idea of the stupid stuff I did when I was a kid and I held no grudges of the less than ideal moments he might have been guilty of as a parent. Our past, present and future was unsoiled and I was so lucky.

My heart broke when Dad died. The shatter brought me to my knees. Mark tried with all of his might to console me. I was comfortless and one year later I don't see myself recovering any time soon.

It's been a whole year of firsts. Dad's wife, Arlene, has struggled with these. It's been hard for her to be alone. She misses the bickering that comes with years of marriage. The anger, the pouting, the silent treatment, the slamming and the muttering all seem to fade when you lose someone you truly love. You find yourself remembering the camping trips, the long drives in the car, the conversations, the meals cooked and shared, date night at your favorite restaurant and the comfortable silence of their presence.

One day I was sitting at my counter eating Top Ramen - of all things. I looked out the window in time to see a couple get out of their car and head up the sidewalk to my house. "I know them, but who the crap are they?" It was Dad and Arlene. 

When I came to my senses and rushed to the door to greet them, I asked "OHMYGOSH! Why are you here?" They had heard that I had gotten a not-so-nice-letter from someone and it had rocked my small world a bit. Dad had driven 12 hours because I "might need a hug from your dad." And they hugged me. And we cried. And my cup runneth over.

Today EVERYTHING reminds me of my dad. I still smell the outdoors he wore as cologne. I remember the feel of his curly hair. The sensation of his warmth wrapped around me lingers on my shoulders. I hear his music and it commingles with the tinkling of his laughter. I miss the sound of his voice. 

Life without someone you love is like entering a great unknown. You don't know what's ahead. You can't have what is behind. So you wing it - never knowing when a touch, a smell, a song, a poem, a voice or a presence tickles your brain and tears begin to flow.

I have a frame above my desk with pictures of dad and myself on the first day we met. I look at it and remember him. I hope I honor him. Although our time together was short, I hope I made him proud.

I love you Dad.