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.

Baby Mine

I love to watch Dr. Phil. Some of his guests drive me insane. Many, many, MANY times I find myself thinking "what a mess". However, I listen to what HE says. I think he really knows people. Dr. Phil is constantly saying "Children should NOT be born with a job."

Umm, in August of 1984, Tyson was given a job. Newly wrapped in my arms, his job was to bring me endless joy. He has done that faithfully.

My boy couldn't wait to see the world and came to us two months early. I had NO idea how small he was. Tyson stayed in ICU for a few days so Mark and I scrambled to get a few things for him.

MOST IMPORTANTLY, it was necessary to get him an outfit to come home in. We promptly bought a Steelers jogging outfit. Problem was, it was sized at 9 months.

Shows what I knew about babies.

It LOOKED small enough. It was HUGE on him. I rolled and rolled the cuffs and sleeves. Tyson came home in that outfit. However, due to the fact it was ENORMOUS and August is sweltering in Norfolk, Virginia, the outfit retired and reappeared later in life.

I have written how handsome, how smart, how giving my boy is. Have I mentioned how funny he is? He cracks me up.

Tyson thoroughly enjoys uttering little innuendos. He watches to see if anyone caught the joke and figured it. Then he laughs along.

I have spent 34 years in awe of this kid.

I had a few errands to run today and, tiring of the banter on the radio, I switched to my own music. OneRepublic came on with I Lived.

Years back, this was the song I used for our Christmas movie. At the time, I applied it to the entire family. Now, I just think of Tyson.

I hope when you take the jump, you don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises, you built a wall
Hope when the crowd screams out, they're screaming your name
Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay

Hope that you fall in love, and it hurts so bad
The only way you can know is give it all that you have
And I hope that you don't suffer but take the pain
Hope when the moment comes, you'll say...

I, I did it all
I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
With every broken bone, I swear I lived

Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up
And when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup
Oh, I wish that I could witness all your joy all your pain
But until my moment comes, I'll say...

YOU, you did it all
You owned every second that this world could give
You saw so many places, the things that you did
With every broken bone, I swear you lived

This kid has done it all.

He has a name in Provo where NOBODY has a name.

Friends adore his honesty. His kindness. His generosity.

He is a father. A son. A hero.

He has carried caskets of friends on his back at a time when he should have been skating and eating ramen with them.

He has taught adults adult behavior when he should have simply been a kid.

Happy birthday, Tyson. Thank you for your generous heart. Thank you for fulfilling your job EVERY SINGLE DAY. Thank you for your quiet humor. Thank you for letting others depend on you.

...you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be, baby of mine.

Laughing At The World

A few months back this was my conversation with Mark:

"I cheated on you. And I'm not sorry."

I was aghast.

"You freaking read the next scroll."

"Yup."

"It wasn't time."

"I'm not sorry. It's a good one."

Jerk.

Mark and I are still reading Og Mandino's The Greatest Salesman in the World. According to the INSTRUCTIONS, Mark, you are to read ONE scroll three times a day for one month.

The book says: I will read each scroll for thirty days in this prescribed manner, before I proceed to the next scroll.

I swear Mark doesn't need the scrolls, he needs to learn to FOLLOW DIRECTIONS.

I went to Fresh Market this morning to grab a few groceries. While walking in, I ran into someone I knew and hadn't seen in years. I'm not sure she even knows about "me". I went to say "hi". I wanted to hug her and tell her "OHMYGOSH! I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?" Instead I drooled all over my shirt and spit when I tried to talk.

I called Mark. I had a melt-down. I absolutely-without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt hate the changes placed at my feet.

The scroll we are reading right now states: "I will laugh at the world. ...for a man is most comical when he takes himself too seriously."

Mark reminded me of this scroll. I can feel sorry for myself or laugh at what has come my way. I choose laughter. I choose to smile. I choose to drool while slurring the words  "I love you".

I'm telling you. GET THIS BOOK. Change your life. Change your thinking. Change your habits. Change your self-esteem.

Let's do it together.

Know that I don't believe swearing has a place in a public forum. Having said that, Elizabeth Taylor said something spot on..

You just do it. Your force yourself to get up. You force yourself to put one foot before the other, and God damn it, you refuse to let it get to you. You fight. You cry. You curse. Then you go about the business of living. That's how I've done it. There's no other way.

Amen

The earth rotated 365.25 (yes, it's NOT 365 times, science line.ucsb.edu states 365.25. They are a SCIENCE site. They are smart people. They HAVE to be right. Right?) The point is, another year has passed, and yes, here we are back to Tanna's birthday.

One of Marks ever-most-favorite-teachers-of-all-time told him once that people don't want to hear about your kids. Mrs. Joe told him that in order to be a good writer you need to follow that rule.

Yep. I'm breaking all the rules. This blog is for Tanna. About Tanna. Because of Tanna.

Sorry Mrs. Joe. If you learned from me - as I adoringly followed you - I insist on doing things my way.

So, I'll write about Tanna.

When Tanna was still pretty young, I had a dream about my family. We gathered for Thanksgiving. The table was set. Turkey was sliced. Potatoes were mashed and pie was waiting. I looked around the room, chest was puffed with love and pride as I gazed lovingly upon each member. Sadness enveloped me. I realized Tanna wasn't there.

Years passed and I could not shake this dream. When Tanna "lost herself" for a bit, this dream came to the forefront and I was terrified that it meant she was going to die and not be at my table. I've calmed down a bit and have come to realize that for a few years, she WASN'T at my table. I WAS sad to not have her with me, however, I was NEVER overcome with loss. I STILL had a daughter. Alive.

The Deason wheel does not turn on a flat tire any longer. Tanna is home and my family is whole. Tanna brought the oh-my-gosh-he's-so-dang-funny, Jerico, with her and on the 27th of January, the cutest-baby-in-the-history-of-ever, Tyson, added to the Deason-family clan.

Tanna was the cutest, most-bestest little one, a ROTTEN teen, a WORSE young adult. Now? She's simply the bestest-most-awesome woman and cutest mother.

Every single day she sends video and pics of baby Tyson. She laughs at his antics, frustrates at his frustrations and swells with love when snuggles come her way.

Mostly, I watch her give of herself with time and love. I admire that selflessness. Jerico is a lucky guy. Tyson is a lucky boy. I'm a lucky mom. We are a lucky family.

My disease has brought challenges to this family. Tanna laughs when I laugh, cries when I cry, yells when I rage and lifts me when I cannot stand.

Have I ever mentioned that I love Tim McGraw? I do. However, climbing up my list of wow-I-really-like-this-guy singers is Dierks Bentley. Tuesday I was driving home from an appointment when the radio began playing his song Woman. Amen.

I'd lose my way and I'd lose my mind
If I faced one day on my own
I know I was saved
The night that she gave this drifter's heart a home

This world has a way of shaking your faith
I've been broken again and again
But I need all the cracks in my shattered heart
'Cause that's where her love gets in

Every night I should be on my knees
Lord knows how lucky I am
I'll never say near enough
Thank God for this woman, Amen

She gives me faith
She gives me grace
She gives me hope
She gives me strength
She gives me love
Love without end
Thank God for this woman, Amen

So tonight I will fall down on my knees
'Cause Lord knows how lucky I am
I'm gonna shout at the top of my lungs
Thank God for this woman, Amen
And thank God for this woman, Amen

Tanna, thank you for becoming the woman you are. I'm so proud of the mother you have become. I silently watch you learn and grow while taking the information needed to better your life. You will never be caged. Your free spirit is enviable. Always remember your strength. Your beauty. Your kindness. Your humor. Remember to use your words.

Oh yeah. Always remember how much I love you.

Happy birthday. I can't wait to see what you do with the year ahead.

Beautiful People

The Steel Horse Family took off again. This year we went to Tombstone, Arizona. Helmets and leathers were donned and away we went to enjoy the wind and the sun. Lots of sun. In fact, nearly too much sun. Hot. It was super hot. Rick didn't live up to his "Black Rain Cloud" name and there wasn't a thunderstorm in sight.

We stopped for a bathroom break. I have hit the point where, try as I may, I cannot walk in the great outdoors unassisted. Yeah. Pisses me off. But that isn't what this blog is about.

EVERYONE is so thoughtful and always take a moment to make sure I get in to the restroom, get water or grab some food. Never, ever, EVER do I want for anything.

I try very hard to portray my gratitude. I'm sure they tire of my thank you's, but I say them nonetheless. I AM grateful.

Jan got the getting-Linnette-to-the-store duty. She let me hold her arm and slowed her pace to match my wobbles.

"Thank you."

"I'm just happy you're here."

Let me tell you, this simple statement was my focus the entire trip.

Don't get me wrong. I drank in the sights; wondered over cowboy-hood; enjoyed friends and family and patiently wait for Mark to reach back and pat my leg. I THOROUGHLY enjoyed our get-away.

However, this time I COULD NOT shake the sincerity and love in that simple statement.

I am so very lucky to have beautiful people in all walks of my life. I have family that adore me as well as unmatched friendship.

In 2006, Tim McGraw (have I mentioned that I love him?) released his Greatest Hits Volume 2 album titled Reflected. This album contains a song Beautiful People. This is the song that played over and over in my head as I kicked back on the bike and thought about my family, friends and various people who have crossed my path.

Tim croons:

They're just family, friends, and neighbors
Doing what they've always done
Lovin' fathers, lovin' daughters, lovin' mothers, lovin' sons
They gather 'round ole Glory
'Round the tables and the steeples
The beautiful people

Thank you, Jan. Thank you ALL for your gifts of hope, love, courage, laughter and strength. Thank you for believing in me and teaching me to believe in myself. Here's to all of the beautiful people in my world.

Yes. I'm a lucky girl.

My Wish

Jaden did it. He turned 18 on Friday. Seasons come and go. Holidays hit and leave. The tides ebb and flow. Before you know it, a year has passed and the time comes to celebrate your birth once again.

There isn't a day that goes by that Jaden doesn't say "Are you okay  Mom?" "Do you need anything?" I depend on him to unload my car when I get groceries. Usually I don't even ask. He just begins. Do you know how thoughtful that is? It is such a small gesture, yet it means the world to me.

Jaden graduated this year. The family convened at UVU to hoot and holler as my boy passed in his cap and gown. A couple of days before graduation, Goose came to me and stated that he and Daulton were going to make a lei out of dollar bills to give to Jaden to wear. I asked if I gave some cash if they would make one from Mom.

Jaden had two leis of $50 dollars each. (Which, by-the-way, it sure isn't easy to come by $100 when you are 17). Jaden walked out through the procession - with a single lei. "Where is his other lei?" "Did you give it to him?" Goose was in charge of the lei-giving and maybe he didn't give it to him. I hadn't seen their craftsmanship, maybe Goose and Daulton ran out of time and didn't get it made. What happened?

"Jaden gave it to one of his friends."

Of course he did.

That's how my kids roll. Generous and giving.

Orison Swett Marsden stated:

"Unless generosity of spirit prevails among men, there can never be upon earth an ideal life."

I think about that statement and I inevitably think about Jaden.

Jaden is still so young. Every single opportunity lies directly at his feet. He already holds the secret to the ideal life. That gift simply came to him. Check. Check. One item out of the way to grown-up-Jaden-hood.

The rest is a bit unknown. Will he be successful? Most definitely. See, success is only defined by WHO YOU ARE and what you do with the life that you have been given.

In 2006 Rascal Flatts released My Wish For You:

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow,
And each road leads you where you wanna go,
And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,
I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.
And if one door opens to another door closed,
I hope you keep on walking' till you find the window,
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile.
But more than anything, more than anything
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,
This is my wish.

I hope you never look back, but you never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you live,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance that you get
Find God's grace in every mistake
And always give more than you take.
But more than anything,

...while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too.

Thank you, Jaden. Thank you for being born. Thank you for completing the Deason clan and making our family whole. Thank you for the gifts and the challenges you have brought to each. Thank you for all you bring; your inner strength; your talent; your hand-some-ness. Mostly thank you for your generous heart.

Get out there and become your dream.

5 More Minutes

I sent Jaden off to his last day of school. He graduates Monday. My heart races in anticipation of the changes that he will make in his world. Yet, my stomach boils. I'm not ready to be a grown-up. I genuinely miss my little kids. I miss them. I can't say it enough. I miss them.

This day is full of lasts. The last of my kids to attend Provo High. They have built a new school. Jaden is the final Senior class to attend the "old" school. The end of getting-up-and-taking-a-shower-before-school. The last phone call and email "This is Provo High School. Jaden was tardy/absent today." Um, why? Then a furious text to Jaden asking "why" followed with a statement that "I'm going to lose my #@$! if you missed class."

"Don't worry Mom. I've got it handled."

What does that even MEAN?

When Jaden was little and attending Franklin Elementary I got up every single morning to make him pancakes. My other kids were beyond mad at me. THEY didn't pancakes every morning. Heck. They were lucky to get bowls and spoons placed in front of them. "There are SO many of you. I can't function."

Should I make them SUPER mad at me? On cold days I would throw Jaden's socks in the oven to warm them up. Yep. I did that. It's a true story. One time I forgot about them and they melted. No lie. I opened the oven to an ooey-gooey mess.

Jaden by-passed Middle School and went to High School. Pancake time was over.

The drive to Provo High is spectacular at 7:00 in the morning. The sun hits the top of Mount Timpanogos just right and every morning I found myself exclaiming that "it is so beautiful today". More times than not, I was met with a mumble.

Jaden got his license. Goose and Daulton bought him a car. The morning drive to school ended.

Here I sit at my computer, tears falling as I remember vivid moments frozen in time. Do you think he gets it? Does he see the opportunities placed within his reach? All he needs to do is to reach out and grab hold.

Andy Andrews authored a book The Lost Choice. About the book, andyandrews.com writes:

Elegantly blending gripping fiction, extensive research, and a powerful message of hope, The Lost Choice illuminates the timeless principles for transforming your life and the world. ...Are you ready to make the personal discovery of a lifetime?

This was one of the books that Mark has read aloud to me. Pieces of a medallion are discovered. As time winds forward, other parts are found and when placed together the etching on the stone is revealed. The story of each stone is shared and their journey has stuck in my mind.

On page 79 you read:

"Because you have been made to make a difference. And I believe that you will."

I was driving home yesterday when Scotty McCreary's song Five More Minutes came on the radio:

Time rolls by the clock don't stop
I wish I had a few more drops
Of the good stuff, the good times
Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by
Like it ain't nothing
I wish I had me a pause button
Moments like those Lord knows I'd hit it
And give myself five more minutes

My thoughts turned to Jaden.

Og Mandino's book still resides on my desk. EVERY SINGLE DAY I read my scroll. I am on the Scroll Marked V.

I will live this day as if it's my last.

"And what shall I do with this last precious day which remains in my keeping? First, I will seal up its container of life so that not one drop spills itself upon the sand."

The hourglass can't be turned over. Time is a gift and five more minutes doesn't exist. You, Jaden, were placed on this earth to make a difference. Seal up your container of life and spill not a single drop.

You don't have to make a difference in the entire universe (that's a ton of pressure, isn't it?) Simply keep improving YOUR world. YOUR reality. YOUR future.

In turn, I will believe. In your hopes. Your dreams. Your ambition. Your ability. Your talent. Your kindness.

Don't you know you have already begun? YOU have made a difference in MY life.