Unbroken

I have spent more time than I should this week thinking about broken-ness. I usually say "Everyone has a story." Each has tales of death, destruction, hope, fear, love, winning, loss, pain, grief, happiness...you get the picture. 

One of my favorite movies is We Are Marshall. Based on a true story, IMBd says;

 "On November 14, 1970, Marshall University's football team, its coaching staff, and many fans were killed when the airplane they were traveling on crashed on the outskirts of their hometown of Huntington, West Virginia. Virtually everyone in the community is in mourning and university president Don Dedman is torn when one of the players who did not travel with the team due to an injury pushes to have the team reinstated. Dedman eventually agrees and they hire Jack Lengyel as the new head coach. Building a team from scratch is a daunting exercise requiring many in the community to examine their values."

It is said by Kate Mara (a fiancee of a player that died):

"The sun rose and set, but the shadows remained. When once there was sound, now there was silence. What once was whole, now was shattered."

Our resilience can be astounding. With every fall, we rise. Covered in blood, sweat, and tears - we rise. We gather unimagined strength and rise.

My thoughts turn like the Tasmanian Devil on the Looney Tunes cartoon. And...and..and... I will spare you my lawnmower thoughts.

Everyone has a story. That much is true. We each share a story of courage, strength, even intelligence. That's OUR glory. We rose. Sometimes again and again. But rise we did.

Be proud of yourself. Feel accomplished. Feel strong. 

Jack Lengyel said to his players:

"How you play today, from this moment on, is how you will be remembered. This is your opportunity. To rise from these ashes and grab glory."

Grab it. It's yours. You earned it.

Peter Rothas penned in The Author's Endnote of the book A Slow Regard Of Silent Things:

"I cannot help but wonder how many of us walk through our lives, day after day, feeling slightly broken and alone, surrounded all the time by others who feel exactly the same way.

 

I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me."

Yep. Everyone has a story. Choose your ending. I choose strength, although I feel weak. Courage, although I feel insecure. Resilience, although I feel like I might crumble. And hope though, at times, I feel hopeless. 

I choose lots of hope.

My Joshua Tree

Super Bowl is this Sunday. I absolute-without-a-doubt love the game, gathering, food, and fun. My birthday is on the 2nd of February and I ALWAYS pretend the party is for me. 

One of my "kids" and Tyson's bestie is Josh Holms. He resides in Wyoming and makes it down every year for our shin-dig.

Josh isn't big on hugs, yet, since I am a HUGE hugger he reluctantly gives in to my demands. Don't get me wrong. It is NOT how you visualize a hug. It's more of a grab, turn your head, QUICKLY move forward, release kind.

At least I get one. AND it makes me VERY happy.

Josh and his sister Jenna have not had the easiest of lives. We have laughed with him. Cried with him. Mourned with him. Celebrated with him. And never, ever, EVER stopped believing in him. I used to worry about that kid. Not so much anymore. He is now DOCTOR Holms and is a professor at a University in Wyoming. I am VERY proud of him.

I have thought and thought and thought what to say about this boy. We are lucky to have him in our lives. I love him. I respect him. I honor him. I cherish him. I know every member of my family feels this way. I know his sister and her cute family feel exactly the same.

Maybe, just maybe, we are in charge. Fate doesn't reign. I think - no I KNOW - strength, power, kindness, fortitude, honor, intelligence, perseverance - everything positive - lies within. WE are the master of our destiny. Josh taught me that.

According to the .gov site of the National Park Service the Joshua Tree is:

"an important part of the Mojave Desert ecosystem, providing habitat for numerous birds, mammals, insects, and lizards. Joshua tree forests tell a story of survival, resilience, and beauty borne through perseverance. They are the silhouette that reminds those of us who live here that we are home."

Meet MY Joshua Tree.

 

Perfectly imperfect.

One day Shelby said "You have got to see our problems too. Your kids are not perfect." Ummmmmm. Sorry Shelby, I beg to differ. I am fully aware that they cry and moan and fight and can be lazy and can not believe in themselves. Yeah. I get it. I see it. However, I choose to see the healthy, strong, loyal, smart, compassionate, giving, beautiful side of them at all times.

There is a "joke" in our family that Goose is the favorite child. Let's put that to rest. He is. 

Goose is the kindest soul I know. He loves each member of the family immensely (carrying that love to extended family and friends) and takes care that each knows to turn to him if anything is needed. His laughter is contagious. He is kind. And handsome. And loyal. And giving. And loving. Honest. True. Beyond all? Good.

Except Tyson is my favorite. He is the most giving person I know. He provides for everyone. And NEVER asks for anything in return. His sense of humor is intense. He is smarter than smart. Everyone knows that if help is needed, Tyson is the first to show as well as the last to leave - and doesn't stop in between. Best of all? He listens. And cares. And smiles. Is handsome. Loyal. Honest. True. Beyond all? Good.

Except, maybe, Tanna is my favorite. She is the strongest person I know. She cares for her family without boundaries. She helps without asking for herself. She sees light. And goodness. And laughs when she finds something funny. She cries when it's not. She is fearless. And beautiful. And kind. And loyal. And true. Beyond all? Good.

Shelby just might be my favorite. She is the most honest person I know. She constantly studies what is needed to improve herself and others around her. She genuinely wants the best for everyone and will teach any who will listen. She lights up a room simply with her presence. She is a force beyond description. She is fearless. Beautiful. Kind. Loyal. True. Beyond all? Good.

Jaden is my favorite. There I said it. It's a fact. Don't question me.

Jaden is the most loyal person I know. He fiercely defends the underdog. His smartness is unrivaled. He loves his family and when he hugs you? I swear it is a gift from heaven above. He is handsome. Kind. Loyal. True. Beyond all? Good. 

In 2010, Pink released her hit song "Perfect".

...Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than perfect.

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing

You are perfect to me...

My family IS perfect. Agatha Christie said:

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crashes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

I remember saying to one of my children that was doubting themselves "Just see yourself through my eyes."

Perhaps Tom Petty crooned it best in "Wildflowers":

You belong among the wildflowers. You belong in a boat out to sea. You belong with your love on your arm. You belong somewhere you feel free. 

 

New Year. New ME.

2020 brought triumph, tragedy, sickness, health, quarantine, gatherings, funerals, births, happiness, tears, joy, pain, motorcycle rides, and loneliness. I watched television this last month more than I have in my entire life. I cried. I smiled and I laughed. I set goals. Some I kept. Some not so much.

I hear people saying they are excited to give the year the boot. Sayonara. See ya. Bye-Bye. But maybe, just maybe, I'll miss some of it.

My family worried beyond worry that I would get COVID. Guess what? I did. My ENTIRE family was sick. I was very sick. I worried that I'd die. Then, I WANTED to die. I didn't die. I always tell my kids, "Quit being dramatic." SOMEONE needed to follow their own advice. I took my vitamins like a champ. I ate. I drank tons of water. My work was BEYOND patient with. It has been over a month. I'm not 100% yet, but I'm on my way and feel ever so much better.

Christmas came and went. My family was magical. I cherished my kids and shared the grand babies excitement. This year I designed shirts and placed the years pics in a movie to the song "Run" by Pink. 

Here's the bloody, bloody truth 
You will hurt and you will lose
I've got scars you won't believe
Wear them proudly on my sleeve
I hope you'll have the sense to know
That sadness comes and sadness goes
Love is hard and play life loud
It's the only thing to give a damn about
Take the best of what I've got
And then you know no matter what
Before you walk away
You know you can run
Run, run, run
Back to my arms, back to my arms
Run, run, run
Back to my arms
And they will hold you down

All year I have worried that my family truly doesn't realize how much I love them. Love is a strange word, isn't it? It's so small with a huge meaning. I love my family. I love them. I LOVE THEM. I do. So I movied, and designed and bought them each the board book "Wherever You Are My Love Will Find You" by Nancy Tillman. It's a beautiful book. EVERYONE should read it and feel that kind of love.

Spring was beautiful. The birds reappeared and sang to me. We have a bird feeder in our backyard. It's right by a tree. The birds fill the tree and eat to their pleasure. If I open the window above my desk, I can hear them chirping. One day, Mark and I were sitting in the hot tub. The bird food was out. 50 or more birds flew to the bush by the tub and stared at Mark until he finally got out and filled the feeder. 

Summer brought sunshine, sprinklers and motorcycle rides. Mark had put a wow-its-so-amazing motor in my bike. He COULD NOT wait to ride it. He gasped and grunted in HE-MAN style when he pulled it out of the garage. Honestly, I just rolled my eyes at him. 

I'm not a big Autumn fan. I do like the colors. I always say that "I hate Sunday because I despise Monday and I hate Fall because I despise Winter." This year, I decided to embrace each season and see the beauty and wonder of each. Fall brought warm days, cool nights, popcorn, movies, drives, and peace. Mark and I took a weekend and rented a cabin by Zion. He pushed me in my wheelchair on a path by the river. It was warm and sunny and beautiful.

One day we took off in the truck and he drove me up a canyon. We stopped by a creek. The sun warmed my shoulders, the scene was beautiful, the creek bubbled and gurgled and Mark read to me from the book we were reading at the time. I left refreshed and rejuvenated.

Winter has brought snow and the peaceful evenings in the silence of the snowfall. My world feels like a snow globe. I look out my window to see the flakes on the trees and grass. Instead of cursing and bemoaning misfortune, I see wonder and magic.

I keep a candle on my desk. "BEAUTIFUL GIRL, YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS." I can. You can. We can. I keep it as a reminder to fight hard. Remember the good. And to ALWAYS know that I will win.

Welcome 2021. I hope the year brings peace, family and love beyond measure. This year has big steps to fill. Better get started.

Well Done....

It's official. I need to change the name of my blog. Something about doom, destruction, death. Any ideas?
August began wrapped in sadness. Donald Shomaker passed. When I think of Donald, I think of that scripture. You know the one. From the bible. Matthew 25:21

"His lord said unto him, well done, thou good and faithful servant..."

Donald was a sweet, funny man. Years back, he was in a mining accident. He hurt. All the time. Every bump in the road, every slight movement brought moans of pain. Then just as quickly as the agony left his lips came a statement. "You're doing good." Never, ever, EVER did he make you feel you weren't enough or trying as hard as you could. He was the kindest man.
I love Mr. Rogers. I like how he talked TO kids and taught in such a way that children understood and grasped the message. He vocalized that emotion is good and that letting it out releases anger, fear and frustration while instantly gaining inner peace.
According to Insider.com:

"You may know him simply as "Mister Rogers" but Fred Rogers, the man behind the beloved children's show "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" that ran for 33 years, was more than a TV personality. He was also a producer, writer, musician, puppeteer, show runner and Presbyterian minister."

Donald lived simply. He furloughed his goals and dreams to raise 3 wonderful children and never regretted a minute of that decision. I met Donald when I was 14. He had just "found" religion, gave up all his ghosts and demons and remained a faithful member of the LDS church until his last breath. To me, that showed his strength, his integrity, his perseverance and his loyalty. He was way smarter and stronger than he ever let show.
I guess my take-away from his life is this: Get to know the "insides" of people. The ticking in each of us that makes the pieces whole. Be kind. Always.
Mr. Rogers said it best. "I'm proud of you. I hope that you're proud of you too."

Keeping My Head On A Swivel

I work from home, therefore, I listen to many, many, MANY podcasts. I gravitate toward True Crime but the solved ones. I like it all wrapped up in a nice bow with the bad guy/girl caught; convicted; behind bars.

Drives Mark crazy.

"Why do you listen to that crap?"

"I'm taking notes so that when I kill you I won't get caught." Duh.

The stated mantra from each podcaster is "Keep your head on a swivel."

The Steel Horse Family jumped on our motorcycles and rode again. This time we went to sunny California to see Yosemite and the Redwoods. We made our way along the coast through Oregon and landed at Crater Lake.

Maybe it's a "rider thing" but I tend to keep my head to the right. Therefore, I see most of the views off on that side. This time I made sure that I looked BOTH right and left. This time I kept my head on a swivel.

I had my left foot bungied down.

I smelled the fresh mown fields, ocean air, forest trees, wildflowers and the stink of dairies along the roads.

I saw trees - HUGE trees that were dated back thousands of years.

I cooled in a river at Yosemite (fully clothed).

I ate the best-est breakfasts I have ever had, yet my favorite meal was at a park outside Crater Lake where Jan and Theresa cut up gas station sandwiches, opened chips and poured lemonade.

I was heated beyond my stamina and faced bone-chilling cold.

I laughed with family-friends.

I missed my kids fiercely.

I saw birds and dogs and kitties and elk and squirrels and deer and cows and horses.

I DID NOT see Sasquatch.

I stayed in an absolutely amazing cabin.

I was turned down to stay at the Traveler's Lodge because (I didn't know this was a real thing) I was with a group on motorcycles. DO NOT give them your money.

I sat in the sand and heard waves crashing on the shoreline.

I rode through beautiful clear skies, fog, rain and wind.

I lost my crap when we went on the Old Coast Highway and each bump nearly ripped off my head.

I cried as Uncle Ron was taken away in an ambulance.

I saw millions of crickets covering the road.

I saw waterfalls and rocks, and streams and boulders and lakes and trees and mountains and snow and...

I hugged my Uncle Bobby.

I laughed when Randy left Jan at the gas station.

I NEVER asked for anything. I'm not kidding. There was always a helping hand reaching toward me.

As usual, Mark took excellent care of me. He packed/unpacked the Harley. He kept me hydrated, fed and always happy.

See our world. Truly see it. Smell it. Feel it.

You don't have to go on a huge trip to enjoy the wonders of our mother Earth. Simply look in your back yard or out the front window.

Oh. And keep your head on a swivel.

Broken Halos

I should be doing some Freelance design. Trust me, I have clients that are holding. I think that they might want to be holding around my neck, but I have had this blog on my mind for over a week and it is driving me nuts, so I'm writing first. I guess clients will wait.

Seems like lately all I write about is gloom and doom. Death follows me like a rabid dog.

My intent from the beginning was to use my words to write about my life. Therefore, here is another blog about the horrid horrible.

I read that Kenny Rogers died. What? I LOVE Kenny Rogers. Was he really THAT old? My very first 45 was of Kenny singing "The Gambler." It was a Christmas gift from Diane Brown. Does Diane even remember gifting me that record? I do. I'm so grateful she did. She gave me a gift of new music I had never experienced before. Country music. I listened fervently to every word sung to me, and filled the air with my own singing. I absolutely loved it. Thank you Diane.

Later that day, I received a text from my cousin Ronda. "Lexi passed away yesterday". What? Ohmygosh, WHAT? Do you remember "Ashes To Ashes"? It's a blog I wrote a while back about Cory Jo. Yep. She was Ronda's daughter. Lexi was her big sister. Both girls, all of Ronda's kids, are gone.

I don't know how Ronda is keeping it together. I would lose my mind. Alas, keeping it together, she is and I hurt for her. Terribly.

This morning, Mark was showing me a song by Chris Stapleton. Broken Halos. I thought of Lexi Marie.

Lexi fought battles that many of us are not able to understand. They were hers. Nobody, I mean NOBODY gets to judge or use my ever-most-hated-statement beginning with "If it were me...".

Many would say that Lexi had a broken halo. I would argue. Vehemently.

Lexi was kind - beyond a normal-kind kind. She genuinely cared about those she loved. She NEVER let me pass without hugging me and asking about my life. Her laughter was contagious and her beauty within combined with her outer beauty. She was a force that forgot to seize her own power. Nor did she hold on to that amazing-ness to see her through the bad times.

I wish I had told her more often. I wish she knew. Why don't we believe in our own uniqueness? Why not grasp that power?

My new favorite television show is "A Million Little Things".  It's on ABC. Mark sat watching it with me for all of 5 minutes. He got up and said "It's way too sappy." And left.

He might be right.

The premise is:

Set in Boston, a tight-knit circle of friends are shocked after a member of the group dies from suicide unexpectedly. The friends realize that they need to finally start living life as they cope with their loss. The title is a reference to the saying "Friendship isn't a big thing - it's a million little things."

A couple of episodes back, the friends gathered for a dinner to celebrate Jon.  A toast was given by Theo, who is 10. He was studying Egyptians at school. He said "The Egyptians believe you die twice. Once when you take your final breath and then again the last time someone says your name."

I'm here to tell you, I have not forgotten. So let me say loudly "Uncle Wendell, Cousin Sheena, Cousin Randall's wife - Cherie, Cousin Tonya's baby, Grandma Caroline, Grandma Elizabeth, Grandpa Pete, Grandpa Lyn, Aunt Jean, Uncle Lyn, Aunt Marie, Aunt Joy, Aunt Mel, Aunt Charlene, Uncle Paul, Aunt Charlene (yes, there are two), Cousin Lori, Cousin Rebekah, Cousin Stephanie's husband Kevin, Cousin Rick's wife Lori, Pat Nakai, Jared Nakai, Denise Jeppesen, My-Best-Friend Ray, Rebecca Hoyt, Max, Cory Jo, Korby's mom, Celeste's mother, Cousin Monicas husband Cory, Aunt Norma, Uncle Henry, Granny, Grandpa Jack, My Dad - Bob Allen, Keith, Lexi Marie.

I know I forgot to mention someone. As per my addled brain, I can't think. I'm relinquishing to you. Say the names of everyone in your life who has died. Keep them alive.

My names may or may not mean anything to you. However, the people bearing those names affected my life. I'm happy to say that with joy.

Thank you Lexi for giving us your sweet spirit to keep in our hearts forever. Yours was not a broken halo. According to Chris Stapleton:

Angels come down
From the heavens
Just to help us on our way
Come to teach us
Then they leave us
And they find some other soul to save

To The Moon and Back

On October 2, I awoke, checked my phone and had a message from my friend, Debi.

"Please call me."

I knew right then, mom (Shirley) had died.

Do I need to say again how I hate this age I'm in? Everyone that I have known my WHOLE life is passing on. I know. I know. The circle of life and all that crap. Have I ever told you that I'm a selfish girl and it's ALL about me?

Shirley came to be with Mark's dad while I was in Norfolk, Virginia. Mark knew her from his childhood, but I had never met her. When Mark got out of the service, we moved from coast to coast - leaving behind Virginia and landing in Seattle to live with Dad and Shirley until Mark found a job and we could get in our own place.

I don't know why I worried. It was wonderful. We chatted, played games and cooked ferociously. She was so cute with Tyson and loved him immensely.

Shirley had a great sense of humor and could light up a room with her smile.

Being a mom was top priority to this gal. When Jaden was born, she would come every single day to photograph him. "Back in the day" smart phones didn't exist. She had to grab her camera, take the pictures and at the end of a week when the roll was finished, it was sent in to be developed. When she got the photos back, she rushed to my house clutching the unopened envelope. We viewed the pictures and were astounded over the changes my boy experienced in such a short time.

I find myself thinking about love and how it differs with each person. Not the actual love, but how love is shown. I'm bothered that if it is not shown in the way we think it should be, then fences and boundaries are set in place and - at times - love is rejected. 

I think we are so lucky to be loved. My feeling is we all carry demons and monsters - some carry them inside and some monsters rear their head in an outward showing. BUT we each have them. Forgive mine and I'll forgive yours. 

Shirley loved Facebook. She kept in touch with friends and family. I used to giggle with my kids "I think Grandma is stalking me. She comments on EVERY SINGLE post." She did. Every one. I found myself looking for her comments. I loved what she would say, loved her support and on really lucky days she would send me an individual message.

"I love you to the moon and back." 

I was lucky to know her. I am lucky to be loved by her. 

Thank you, mom, for your smile. Your wisdom. Your laughter. Your joy. Your gracious love for people. For the books we shared. For your unfailing support. For the life you gave when it was so hard to simply "be". I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU - to the moon and back.

It Should Be In The Papers

I've not stuck to my word. Admittedly, 2019 was NOT my favorite-of-all-time. I didn't blog my happy thoughts and seemed to become lost in my anger and confusion. 2020 brings new beginning. New hope. AND new resolve to blog again. Verbal vomiting on an empty page is good for me, and since it's ALL about me... right? You get the picture.

A pretty awesome, really cool and super happy event happened in 2019. My Shelby married my entirely-handsome-and-calm-and-gracious-and-oh-so-wonderful Justin Roach.

I have always had an affinity to newspapers. I used to read each column ferociously. I love the written word and miss hearing the thump of the daily paper hitting our driveway.

When I lived in Ojai, I delivered newspapers every single day. I got up at 2:30. Drove to the newspaper "office", tied each newspaper, loaded them in my car and took off on my route. I threw the paper through the windows of my Grand Prix. Left and right. Left and right. With extreme accuracy my papers would land in the driveway of each subscriber.

I am ALWAYS cold. Because my windows had to stay down, I would bundle in layers. Did I mention I was pregnant with Tanna? I was. I would bundle up my big ol' belly and head into the darkness. About half-way through the route, I had to stop the car and get out to get the paper over a super high fence. Madam would always greet me. Madam is a German Shephard. I would pet her and talk to her. After some time, Bart (the owner) began coming out of the house to chat with me.

I thoroughly enjoyed our visits. Madam was one of the dogs that starred in Hogans Heroes. It's a show I watched as a kid. There was a tunnel under each dog house of the German Shepherd guard dogs (there were two of them). In the episode, the dog house would raise up, (dogs too) and you would see Hogan or one of his "men" peering around. It always brought a chuckle.

When I moved, Bart and his wife, Jane, gave me a picture of Madame. We remained pen pals for a while, but I let time slip away. I searched online for them a while back, but I had no luck.

Back "in the day" newspapers had a section for announcements. The reader was able to view specifics and pictures of births and engagements. If it was a celebrity, they would provide a write-up of the actual wedding - details that caused your imagination to run wild.

At 4:45 on Saturday, November 2, the bride, Shelby, escorted by her father, Mark, glided down an aisle lined with greenery, candles and cut wood.

The bride was stunning in a low backed gown that deceptively looked made of lace, but was instead a printed fabric that was both slimming and left cumbersome by the wayside. Her makeup was impeccable and was applied with skill by Justins sister Sarah. Tessa flew in from California and did a stunning job styling the hair of the bride. Shelby's hair swept to the side in a long braid in order to highlight the backless dress and accommodate the simple and elegant veil.

Her father was dashing in a slim fit black suit, white shirt and slim black tie.

Justin waited patiently under an arch made of greenery, with flowers, wood, lights and candles. The setting was stunning but only complimented the nervous groom dressed in a slim fit black suit, white shirt and black tie.

Everyone stood while the bride walked to the loving arms of her groom. Hailey proceeded the couple and tossed rose petals in the aisle. The audience wept while Mark handed his baby to the guy that promised to cherish the girl for life.

The ceremony was performed by a fellow firefighter that goes by the name "Mudflap". Mudflap sported a full-on mullet accented with a bright purple shirt. The speech was well rehearsed. It was funny, tearful and full of love. He pronounced Justin Roach and Shelby Deason husband and wife.

Following the ceremony, the venue was emptied of chairs and replaced with tables covered with greenery and beautiful flower arrangements. Chips and salsa were served in buffet style while family was swept outside for pictures. Street tacos, rice and beans followed and then the toasting began. Mark began the festivities with a tribute to the bride and groom. He wrapped up his speech by playing guitar with Mat Deason and singing "Nothing Compares To You."

More toasts were given and dancing followed. A live band serenaded while onlookers tore up the dance floor in moves that would put Michael Jackson to shame. The Daddy-Daughter dance was to "True Colors" by Cyndi Lauper and the bride was overcome with emotion. That girl adores her dad and knew this was a big moment.

Justin grabbed his own mom to dance while twin, Josh, took a bow to the mother-of-the-bride and asked her to dance. Before the song ended, Josh and Justin switched places and I got to feel the strength of my new son-in-law's arms wrapped around me secretly promising to hold my girl up when she can't walk. Justin twirled me and dipped me with finesse while the crowd cheered. (We secretly stole the show).

Can you see it? It was beautiful and fun and heart warming and festive and a wonderful time was had by all. Congratulations my dear kids. I'm so proud.

Meet Justin and Shelby Roach. Together they will conquer the world.

Humble and Kind

In June, Jaden turned 19. It's so weird that my baby nears adult-hood-ness. It freaks me out a bit. I'm so not ready for everyone to be grown and gone. I will enjoy them while they are home. Right?

Jaden has faced some challenges this past year that have made him ANGRY and SAD and VOLATILE. Yet I still see loyalty accompanied with pain and fear in his eyes.

It kills me to see my kids hurt. I go to bed worrying about them and wake to thoughts of them. Jaden has taken the forefront on this.

When Jaden entered our family, he brought a breath of fresh air that each of us needed. We celebrated walking and talking and skateboarding and video games. We puffed up with pride over reading and spelling and math equations and writing. We cheered at sports events and learned again that mud puddles REALLY are fun, fishing is dang cool, movies are HAPPENING and cereal is the best food invented.

Yes. Jaden taught us to see the world with fresh eyes. Eyes we had forgotten to use in the mumble jumble of being an adult.

Jaden soared through school. He wowed all of his teachers. Above all, he has always been kind and loyal. I mean LOYAL. He loves his friends and family beyond measure.

I think at times we forget what it is like to be 16, 17, 18, 19 or even 20. We sure as heck don't know what it's like to do it now-days with social media, violence and cowards surrounding us. 

However, ALL the old adages remain true. 

"A penny saved is a penny earned." 

"Things are not always what they seem."

"Slow and steady wins the race."

"Call a spade a spade."

"Pride goes before the fall."

"Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy and wealthy and wise."

"Well done is better than well said."

"Nothing comes from nothing."

Maybe, just maybe, we need to see the world through Jaden's young eyes. Hopeful and kind and humane and adventurous. Maybe we need to see opportunities; grab them; never EVER let go.

The Steel Horse Family rode again. We left on July 4. Another absolutely wonderful,  invigorating, humbling, awe inspiring, holy-cow did you see that? experience.

But I had left my boy in turmoil. His super, extra, pretty dang cool friend had just died. It was awful. Heartbreaking. Difficult. Hard.

Jaden was on my mind as I soared through mountains. Smelled evergreens. Viewed lakes and valleys and breathtaking scenery. I carried Jaden with me when EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the group made sure I was able to walk on the beach and feel the ocean glide through my toes.

We were riding in silence when Mark turned up the CD and Tim McGraw began singing "Humble And Kind".  And I could NOT stop thinking of my boy.

You know there's a lot that goes by the front door
Don't forget the keys under the mat
Childhood stars shine, always stay humble and kind
Go to church 'cause your momma says to
Visit grandpa every chance that you can
It won't be a waste of time
Always stay humble and kind
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got moutains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When the dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
Don't expect a free ride from no one
Don't hold a grudge or a chip and here's why
Bitterness keeps you from flying
Always stay humble and kind
Know the difference between sleeping with someone
And sleeping with someone you love
I love you ain't no pick up line
Always stay humble and kind.
Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got mountains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When those dreams your dreaming' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind
When its hot, drink a rooter, eat a popsicle
Shut off the AC and roll the windows down
Let that summer sun shine
Always stay humble and kind
Don't take for granted the love life gives you
When you get where your goin'
Don't forget turn back around
Help the next one in line
Always stay humble and kind.

Happy Birthday, my son. Remember these things. Honor you friends, your family, but most of all honor yourself. 19 is going to lay opportunities at your feet. Seek them. Grab hold with both hands and never let go. Take a moment and see yourself through my eyes. You're perfect.

Nothing. Everything.

Sunnie emailed me to find out "WHY" the heck I haven't blogged. Crap. It's been a while, hasn't it? Thank you Sunnie for lighting a fire under my butt. Oh! A big thank you for checking on me.

No. I am not hurt, sick or dead. Just working like a crazy woman. I do love Spring, but getting the yard back in order is a daunting task. My energy has been devoted to that and I'm slacking.

I HOPE to be back in the swing of things and blog more. Heaven knows I have PLENTY to say!

A couple of weeks ago, Shelby came over. She has been trying to come once a week to do some cleaning for me so I don't go absolutely-terribly-down-the-rabbit-hole crazy. We cleaned, then she just sat in the chair and we chatted.

Shelby has been really pushing me to write affirmations. The thing I like about chatting with her about this self-help stuff is she is very forthright in saying "this was hard for me." She's willing to talk about how uncomfortable and weird it felt. MANY times it's EXACTLY how I felt right before I quit.

And I quit. Often.

Why is it that we let our insecurities get in the way of our success? I think I'm ALWAYS in my own way. To be honest, it frustrates me.

Mark called me the other day. "Don't tell me NO. Get on your podcast app and listen to Joe Rogan interviewing Naval Ravikant. It's episode #1309."

I have to admit. I listened for a bit and said no more. I do Podcasts while I work, but I don't "hear" them. I just need the noise. I turned it off, called Mark and said "I tried. Not into it".

He was pretty mad.

He talked about it that night.

He talked about it the following night.

"If you had listened to that podcast..."

Last night Mark took me to get my brand new I-am-so-excited prescription sunglasses.

Anyone struggling to see will share my excitement.

After we went to dinner, we drove the back streets of Utah county. I am not able to drive any longer, so when I say this was a treat? THIS WAS A TREAT.

We are weird (I know) and old (I know this too) and since we had been talking about meditation, Mark turned on the app he downloaded about meditation, I closed my eyes and meditated. Right there. In the car.

It was JUST what I needed.

Mark turned on that podcast. I was captive. I had to listen. I'm grateful and better for doing so.

Naval Ravikant is the most intelligent man. He speaks what he knows and knows what he speaks.

"We are nothing. Yet, we are everything."

We are, aren't we?

I fall in the "nothing" category if you look at the entire universe. Yet, I fill the "everything" category at the very same time.

Only I walk and talk and experience and have passion and frailities and experience that I call my own. I share what I can, however, nobody REALLY knows my pain - my joy - my triumph - my accomplishments - my failings - my insecurity - my struggles - my hopes - my dreams - my longings.

Og Mandino said it best in Chapter Eleven of The Greatest Salesman in the World. The Scroll Marked IV.

I am nature's greatest miracle.

I AM nature's greatest miracle.

Do you hear me?

I AM NATURE'S GREATEST MIRACLE.

Say it. Loudly. Mean it. See it. BE it.

Shelby said something that truly resonated with me. "The universe WANTS you to be happy."

I started (restarted) my affirmations.

Every day I read out loud how wonderful I am. Yep. It's weird. Its awkward. It doesn't ring true all of the time.

However, I do find myself gravitating towards a "better" me.

I'm happy. TRULY happy.

I'm at the beginning of liking who I am. I have spent my entire life struggling and emerging into this adult. I have FOUGHT to become who I am. I have conquered beasts determined to bring me down, and yet I don't believe in myself? Now THAT'S a contradiction.

So...

I challenge YOU to begin believing in yourself. Write down the things that resonate within. I began with things I KNOW and I wrote things I have heard other say about me. Every day believe in yourself. EVERY SINGLE DAY.

My Affirmations (so far):
I am SUPER creative. My book will soar and my dream will come true.  (My Seasons of Utah book)
I am a good writer.
I am STRONG.
I am beautiful.
I am the glue in my family.
I mean so much to many people.

I am.

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.

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.