Flying With Eagles

Tomorrow is another birthday. For Goose. He has had 31 so far and tomorrow marks 32.

This year has brought many, many, MANY changes for my son. He is a daddy now. He loves it. It's so fun to watch him embrace daddy-hood.

Goose is no longer with the Hotshots. He decided that being gone the entire Summer is not what he had in mind for his family. He was offered a job that ensured he would be home every night. He accepted. Goose is over quite a few fire agencies now and will make sure fires are fought and battles won.

I think his decision shared excitement and anticipation with sadness. As "the season" approaches I think he feels relief at not leaving his family, but yet is saddened to not be with his "brother-family". I get it. However, I'm SUPER excited to have him home to enjoy birthdays, family barbecues and hot tubbing.

It's funny how you break routine without thinking about it. In hindsight, it was the best thing ever. But why? Interesting.

I needed a bath. I learned a long time ago that if I check voicemail or email that "POOF" - my day is gone before I know it. Therefore, anything I needed for myself came first NO MATTER WHAT.

Except THAT day.

I was getting ready to run a tub. Jaden was a little guy and still in bed.

I checked my messages.

"This is Officer so-and-so. Your son has been in an accident. You need to call the hospital."

What? Did I hear that right?

I knew it would be faster to drive to the hospital.

Josh was living with us. I yelled down the stairs that one of the boys was hurt. I was heading to the hospital. "You've got Jaden."

I didn't even wait for an answer.

I got in the jeep and took off.

I SWEAR TO YOU that was the loooooongest drive in FOREVER.

In reality it was MAYBE five minutes.

Was Tyson in a wreck on his way to work? What had happened to him?

I got to the hospital.

"My son is here. I need to get to him."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know."

The nurse looked at me quizzically.

"Last name is Deason, but I don't know for sure if it's Tyson or Kadell."

The nurse led me to a room with Goose sitting in a bed.

"Goose." I whispered.

They were wheeling out an X-ray machine and I heard the doctor say "Nothing is broke."

It's funny how unimportant things bear witness to what is REALLY happening.

Goose had his hand on towels. ALOT of towels.

I said to him "At least nothing is broke."

I had no idea what had happened. Why was he there? He looked fine. Why was he there? Why did a cop call me? Why was he there? Why was he NOT in X-ray? Why did they wheel in a machine? Why was he there?

Then my little boy lifted his hand off the towels. His flesh hung down. I could see his bones, tendons and all the gunk that make up a hand.

I reeled out of the room and sat on the floor outside of his door - head between my knees - fighting nausea and the blackness creeping. I heard Goose say loudly "DO NOT CRY MOM."

I didn't.

I stood up. Brushed my butt and headed back in.

Long story short? While employed at Powder River making livestock fencing, Goose had rolled his arm in the machine that bends metal. It popped his hand. I knew beyond any belief that we were going to lose his hand.

After transferring to a different hospital and sitting FOREVER in the ER watching nurses come in to drug him and wash his wounds, the surgeon came in. He did a few tests and announced "I can save his hand."

I couldn't believe it. Guess what? After multiple surgeries and a very long hospital stay, he SAVED HIS HAND.

Through all of that trauma, Goose kept a cool head and a steady soul. He kept ME calm while he suffered and bled.

In 1987, Sammy Hagar released the song "Eagles Fly". First of all, I love, love, LOVE Sammy. Second of all, this song has ALWAYS reminded me of Goose. Always.

Sunday morning 9 a.m.
I saw fire in the sky
I felt my heart pound in my chest
I heard an eagle cry
Now I'm alive I can breathe the air
I watch an eagle rise above the trees
Project myself into what he sees
Take me away
Come on fly away
Take me up so high
Where eagles fly
I often dream I sail through the sky
I've always wished I could fly
The simple life of a bird on the wing
Oh Lord, I could sing
I'm alive, I breathe the air
Wash the earth from my face
I catch a glimpse of another dream
I turn, I look but there's no trace

Come on, let's fly away where eagles fly.

Goose will soar through 32. He will keep steady and will surely win this race called Life. If you haven't had a chance to soar among the Eagles, meet my guy. I get to do it EVERY single day.

Happy birthday, my son. I'm so very proud of you.

You're Gonna Live Forever

In October of 1977, John Mayer entered our world. In November of 2016, he released the album The Search For Everything. One of the songs on that album is named You're Gonna Live Forever In Me. On Friday, March  22 at  9:30 a.m. that is the song I heard while heading to a memorial for my dear friend Beckie.

...And you're gonna live forever in me
I guarantee, it's your destiny

Mark drove me to Orem to see my dear friend for the last time.

It was a small service held at a church. Five of her kids stood and shared a few stories. First thought I had was "I can't believe how much I learned from her on this mommy stuff". I found that the stories could have each been told by MY kids. This made me smile.

Then, I reflected how a lifetime, HER lifetime, could be summed up in a few short sentences.

I miss my Beckie. Let me make sure you understand - I MISS MY BECKIE.

Beckie believed in me. She celebrated the good and mourned the bad. When hurricanes struck while I lived in Virginia, it was Beckie who called to check on me.

Beckie could sew. I mean that lady could sew. She knew her fabric and how to handle each.

Many, many, MANY times I enlisted her expertise to sew what I needed. When I was pregnant with Tanna, I became pretty desperate for maternity clothes to cover my expanding belly. I asked Beck to make me some cute overalls.

Before long, the mailman brought a slip stating that I had a package at the Post Office. I was so excited. I got the kids ready and walked to the Post Office in Ojai. I was clutching that slip.

The Post Office was by a park. I handed over the sweaty, wrinkled sheet; grabbed the package; thanked the postal worker; gathered the kids and went to the park. I held the package, return address from Beckie, unopened.

While the kids played, I sat in the warm grass and opened my handmade maternity clothes. I was super excited. Imagine my surprise when the clothes weren't there. In their place was the cutest fabric bear with matching basket, a wall quilt and a VERY silky, long black nighty. I was stunned.

"I just wanted to do something special for you."

Those were the words I heard when I called my friend to thank her.

Beckie was not gifted with an easy life. It seems she learned struggle and sadness and loneliness and grief at an early age. I'm not sure that she ever knew how wonderful she truly was. She was, you know. Wonderful.

She developed dementia. However, she kept her humor and, at times, I still bore witness to the twinkle in her eyes and the lightness in her step.

When her oldest boy, André, messaged to let me know that Beckie was not in a good place and we were probably going to lose her, I hit my knees.

Afterglow was released by Sarah McLachian in 2003. The song Answer plays from my iPod. Man, I love this song.

I will be the answer at the end of the line
I will be there for you while you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty I will be your solid ground
I will hold the balance if you can't look down
If it takes my whole life I won't break I won't bend
It'll all be worth it worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all gone out
You'll still be burning so bright.

Cast me gently into morning
For the night has been unkind
Take me to a place so holy
That I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight

From that moment, this song has played over and over in my mind. Let's be honest, it still plays for me.

I miss my Beckie. I miss the long talks. I miss her smile. Her laughter. Her humor.

I miss the light in her eyes.

I long for her hugs.

She offered sturdy, unfailing friendship. She changed my life.

What I would give to have my friend whole; to hold her hand one more minute. I would whisper "It'll all be worth it, worth it in the end."

Beckie, I hope, NO I PRAY with all my might, that you were cast gently into morning, for I know your night was unkind.

Rebecca (Eldridge) Hoyt

July 03, 1957 - March 19, 2019

What I Know

When Tanna was in High School she was assigned to write things she knew. For certain. For her birthday that year, I made her a picture to always remind her that the simple things matter. I would always warn "Don't get caught up in the emotion of the thing. Deal with the facts."

I think at times my advice has fallen on deaf ears. It's not just Tanna. ALL of my kids roll their eyes and turn their heads when I go into "Mom" mode. Okay. I'll be honest. Mark does as well.

I start counseling today. Again. A few years back I went to counseling here in Provo. Ummmmm. Let's just say it didn't work out. I wasn't a fan.

Shelby has been riding my butt to go back. I was NOT interested. It was such a waste of time and money.

I see my neurologist once a year. I have such a rare disease that it's more of an update for her.

This last visit she informed me that they are making progress in bulls-eyeing this disease. I may not see the progress in my lifetime, but my children will and maybe - just maybe - my grand babies will never know the fear and anguish of OPCA.

During my SIX hour visit (nope. I'm not lying.) my therapist wrote down two names of gals that used to work in the department that now are therapists. I put the numbers in my purse; transferred them to a "safe" place at home and for the life of me CANNOT find them.

Fast forward to about a week ago. I'm in a bad place. Fear is DOMINATING my life. My future is so unclear to me that I no longer see beauty and peace.

Enter Mary.

I emailed my doctor that I was "losing my shit'. Sorry for the bad word. However, that is exactly how I worded it and the results were prompt. I got those numbers and called the first on the list. Tag, Mary, you get to deal with my crazy.

I'm writing this before I go tonight. I want to remember why I'm going. I want to remember my excitement and the anticipation of a new life. I desire peace and hope and joy and happiness and anticipation. Both for me and my family. Poof! I want the fear GONE. Forever.

Therefore, I'll remember each loss. I'll remember when I could sing and dance and talk and laugh and read and craft and draw and write and walk and skip and run and hike and drive and...and....and...

I'll remember the fear and pain and restlessness and anger and hopelessness and the unpeace. Yes. I'll remember.

BUT. I will now live. Yes, I'll LIVE. If I slip, I have the loving arms of my family to fall in. With the help of new tools and ideas I anticipate less falls and success to prevail.

These things I know:

• Disease is awful and scary.

• It's okay to be afraid.

• Family can lift you higher than you've ever been.

• What you can or cannot do DOES NOT define you. 

• A new baby smells like heaven. 

• Being kind is worth more than anything.

• Use your words.

• Deal with the facts.

• The loudest voice in the room isn't always right.

• At times, what you think you need to say is not NEARLY as important as the person you are saying it to.

• Pick your battles.

• Take care of YOU and then you are capable of taking care of everyone else.

• Pepsi is better than Coke.

• I choose to grow and learn and become. 

• Pull up your bootstraps.

• Persist without exception.

• Greet every day with love in your heart.

• Children are a gift.

• Families are forever.

• I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

This Is Me

Another year has flown past leaving each to face 2019. With every single New Years wish, I replied "2019 is going to be epic. I know it."

It will be. Epic.

Every New Year brings the same routine - time to take down the Christmas tree, box up the twinkling lights, un-choo-choo the train, retire Santa's hat and reminisce on Christmas memories. It's a love/hate relationship FOR SURE.

This year, Tanna and Shelby took on the putting-up-the-tree-for-mom task. However, Tanna went home and Shelby has been delegated to remove all signs of festivity until next year.

"I'm sorry I haven't come yet to do the tree. Our friend (no, I'm not going to say his name) is in town and he's having a rough time. I need to be there for him."

"Of course. No rush. We will do the tree this weekend."

I have thought and pondered and wondered and cried over our friend's situation.

I have mentioned that Mark reads to me nearly every night. We just finished You Can't Hurt Me penned by David Goggins. Absolutely LOVED this book. I highly recommend reading it. Having said that out loud, I do need to mention that it is, at times, vulgar and irreverent. It's raw, real and unrefined. This book was just what I needed to hear and has inspired me to become more.

I slip on my jammies, curl into bed and listen as Mark reads. We have read multiple books now and it seems that the recurring theme is "Everyone has a story."

Triumph comes from the ashes. Success is born from failure. Don't give up. Never-ever-ever quit. Ever.

When Shelby told me that our friend was facing sadness right now, I thought of this. I say loudly "Don't quit." Sometimes it is necessary to be still and simply step back to see ourselves through the eyes of those that not only love us, but admire us as well. Kindness is returned to the bearer.

I recently changed my ever-most-favorite-movie list. I added The Greatest Showman. I absolutely, without-a-doubt LOVE this movie. According to FoxMovies.com

Hugh Jackman leads an all-star cast in this bold and original musical filled with show stopping performances that will bring you to your feet time and time again. 

Inspired by the story of P.T. Barnum, the film follows the visionary who rose from nothing to create a mesmerizing spectacle.

Isn't it grand that Barnum simply saw people? He saw through each idiosyncrasy. What some called freaks, he called family.

To me, the music defines the entire movie. I hear each song, pick it apart and find meaning behind every sing-song word.

In the movie, tiring of the scrutiny each have had to endure, Keala Settle (the bearded lady) leads the anomalies in singing This Is Me.

I am not a stranger to the dark
Hide away, they say
'Cause we don't want your broken parts
I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars
Run away, they say
No one will love you as you are
But I won't let them break me down to dust
I know that there's a place for us
For we are glorious
When the sharpest tools wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen I make no apologies, this is me
Another round of bullets hits my skin
Well, fire away 'cause today, I won't let the shame sink in
We are bursting through the barricades and
Reaching for the sun (we are warriors)
Yeah, that's what we've become
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies, this is me
and I know that I deserve your love
'cause there's nothing I'm not worthy of
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out
This is brave, this is proof
This is who I'm meant to be, this is me

Say it loud and proud, my friend. Take all the hurt, anger, fear, sorrow and hopelessness - wrap it in a ball and throw it away. We are enough. YOU are enough. Gather every shred of courage you possess. Scoop up your honor, integrity, happiness and love to replace all that mumble-jumble rattling in your head. Give sadness the finger. Always.

Open the floodgates and scream for all to hear -

THIS IS ME.

Just One Look

On November 09, 2018 the world was forever changed with the birth of my 4th grand baby. Hollis Keith Deason entered at 12:32 pm and weighing in at 8 lbs 2 oz and measuring a lengthy 21". The ever-so-ecstatic parents are Daulton and Goose.

I remember so vividly when they got married. The night before the wedding a bunch of us got together for dinner to celebrate Daulton's last night of single-girl-living. Shelby had gathered letters from each and put them in a scrapbook to present to man-I-love-this-girl-so-very-much Daulton. I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. I needed Daulton to know the importance of my son. Of being a Deason. Of honoring her marriage. Of embarking on this roller coaster ride - Deason Style.

However, it was EXTRA important that she knew I had FIVE ever-most-precious treasures. Tyson, Goose, Tanna, Shelby and Jaden. I was giving her one. Goose was to be hers.

Do I need to tell you that Daulton has done her work GLORIOUSLY? She has. She has made Goose a better man.

I watched as these kids grew a family all their own. I listened to the doubts. Cried along with frustrations. Laughed at Daulton's waddle-walk. Shared excitement over the oh-my-gosh-it's-so-cute nursery. Sat in the new rocking chair and watched the bookshelf expand with baby books.

We waited and waited and waited for our guy to come.

Along came Hollis. I was smitten.

In 1990, Doris Troy released the song Just One Look.

I swear on a stack of bibles this song ran through my head like a freight train.

Just one look and I fell so hard
In love with you
I found how good it feels
To have your love
Say you will be mine
Forever and always
Just one look, that's all it took.

Goose had asked that he be alone with Daulton during childbirth. It took ever-so-much strength to honor that request. 

After Hollis was born, Goose texted me "My boy is here." I freaking bawled like a baby. 

Then came the text "Come see me momma".  I couldn't get to the hospital fast enough.

"Are we there yet?"

"Mark! You're driving too slow."

"Hurry up!"

We FINALLY got to the hospital and Goose met us in the hallway. I held it together until we walked in the room. Daulton was holding the sweetest baby that ever lived. She was smiling ear-to-ear. I have never seen her more beautiful.

"Do you want to hold him Momma?"

I sat in my chair and Goose brought me his son. And I fell in love all over again.

I began with "the world was forever changed". Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it? How in the heck does one little baby change an entire world?

With kindness. And honesty. And loyalty. With bright blue eyes that lovingly hold your gaze until you know that you won't fail. With the strength of a million lions yet the softness of a herd of lambs. With color and words and hope beyond measure.

Yep. Hollis Keith Deason will change the world. Watch and see.

You Should See It In Color

Shelby had a birthday on September 28. I post EVERY year for her birthday. Not this year. I wanted to wait for her day to end so I could include everything. The next day we went hunting (yeah, gross). Work has been NUTS and before I could blink, November has hit and I'm just sitting down to write about my girl.

Shelby has been studying watercolor and the technique behind it as part of her requirement to graduate this year. I think it surprises her how much she enjoys it. She exercises her art every single day and she's REALLY good. I don't know what she will do to tie watercolor with her photography, but she will. You heard it here first. Watch for Shelby Deason Photography to CHANGE THE WORLD.

When Mark gets free time, he grabs his phone for music and disappears in his shop for a bit. He's ALWAYS calling me out to "listen to this song." "This is good music, right here." "Are you listening?" DRIVE'S ME CRAZY. "Yes, Mark, I hear it." "Yep. That's a good song." "I'm going in the house now." I roll my eyes and leave to his muttering "You aren't even listening."

But I do.

One of the songs he "wow-ed" over is Jamey Johnson's In Color.

A pictures worth a thousand words
But you can't see what those shades of gray keep covered
You should have seen it in color.

Shelby fills a room with color. Most times, you don't even notice the black and white until she strolls in and EVERYTHING changes. Color fills every nook and cranny and the family feels whole.

"Mom, did you know that watercolor is layered to make it look right?"

"No, I didn't. But that makes sense."

Why? Because my beautiful daughter is layered with honesty, loyalty, integrity, kindness and empathy. She will be the first to wrap her loving arms around those in need. She fears no one and will stand (right or wrong) with her shoulders squared.

The thing I admire most? That girl is ALWAYS searching to better herself. She is constantly learning and growing and genuinely wants the best for those around.

Yes. The world is black and white. If you're lucky, you get see color once in a while. Not me. I have Shelby. Color washes over me every single day.

I love this girl beyond words.

On September 28, 1991, color entered my world.

Thank you, Shelby. Thank you for your crazy. Thank you for your loyalty. Thank you for your depth. Thank you for your love.

May this year bring more color to us all.

P.S. Shelby got engaged on her birthday. 

Written In Stone

A few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to gather in Stanley, Idaho. We were able to camp, eat fabulous food, laugh, bond and lay Uncle Paul and Aunt Charlene to rest. How lucky were we? Family and friends wrote tribute to our pretty-dang-awesome Paul and Charlene. Our words were put inside a lock box and buried in the meadow close to their favorite camping spot. Jan and Theresa mixed the ashes with wildflower seeds and each of us grasped a cup in our loving hands and spread the seed throughout the meadow. With rain and time on our side, flowers will bloom and the world will get to witness the beauty of the Deason family.

Resting on the buried time capsule, Rick lay an engraved stone. What is it about viewing a written image of names? Theresa showed me the stone and I freaking lost it. I mean I LOST IT. My finger traced the Deason name and my heart was flooded with memories of Uncle Paul, Aunt Charlene, Aunt Joy, Aunt Mel, Aunt Charlene (yes, there were two of them), Cousins, Grandparents, all friends and family that have passed before us. Is there a path to ready for us? Is Uncle Paul cutting wooden chairs? Is Aunt Charlene gathering flowers for the table? Is Aunt Joy making tacos? Are Aunt Mel and Aunt Charlene giggling and raising havoc? How about Dad, Pat, Denise, Ray? Uncle Lyn, Cori Jo, Aunt Jeanne, Rebecca? Both sets of Grandparents? Are they gathered with plate in hand? Oh I so hope so. Those are chairs I long to sit on at a table I can only dream of with loved ones that make my heart sing.

I gather rocks. There is something that resonates in my soul when I can touch a piece of the earth from a place that holds meaning.

Pat's daughter got married. In fact, since Pat's passing, both daughters have said their vows. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. In both weddings, the centerpieces were embellished with rocks.

Erin married first. I grabbed a rock and placed it in my pocket. For a few years now, that rock sits in a bowl on my desk right next to Pat's picture.

Kelle honored me by requesting that I go wedding dress shopping with her. Before leaving, I grabbed that stone and a picture of Pat and brought them with me.

The rock from Erin now has a companion. When Kelle married, I grabbed a rock off the table and placed it in the bowl.

While attending the memorial in Idaho, I picked up a rock. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to my dear friend Jan. She held a rock in her hand. With a quavering voice she told me "I know you." and handed it to me.

Does the rock hold more meaning than Jan thinking of me? I don't think so.

Friedrich Nietzsche wrote:

There will always be rocks in the road ahead of us. They will be stumbling blocks or stepping stones; it all depends on how you use them.

When you are faced with grief, success, friendship, joy or sadness, bend down and grab a rock. Run your fingers over and feel the smoothness juxtaposed with the jagged edges. Layer upon layer, rocks are formed and made beautiful with time.

Write your life in stone.