Falling

Note to self:

Just because your at the end 

of your rope...

Doesn't mean you can't enjoy the ride down.

Here's to happy falling.

I love you all SO much.

Thanks for holding my rope

when I come all undone.

Bad days and Butterflys

I flipped on the computer this morning

to find the results of my not so happy post yesterday.

I was overwhelmed with woman power.

And I will always love you for your

woman power

because it renewed my commitment to

faith

I never want to loose my faith

but somedays I do

and lucky for me

I have you.

This butterfly picture 

flicked on my computer 

from out of nowhere yesterday

It was taken the spring

after my mother died.

I was wearing my mothers ring,

when savannah came and placed

this butterfly on my hand.

I dreamt of a butterfly flying free

the night my mom died

and so did Savannah.

 

Two months later

Garrett and I were hiking the Napali Coast.

it is second only to heaven itself,

with miles of sea cliffs

falling into the ocean

like green waterfalls.

I hadn't told Garrett my butterfly dream.

But as we sat on the cliff to eat lunch,

I did.

Soon his hands and eyes were all over the place

I was annoyed

He isn't listening

Then I put my chin up and saw 

wild flutters around me,

more monarch butterflies than I could count on one hand.

Garrett was crying.

Garrett doesn't cry.

But he knew what I knew.

Mom was saying "hello

I'm healthy and I'm hear for you"

"remember the butterfly"

So yesterday I knew this picture didn't flick on by itself.

I think God opened the door

for a brief second

just like before

to let mother remind  me

once again

of the miricle of the

Butterfly

Now it is time for me to break through this cacoon

and start flying again.

"This"

Note to reader: I posted "this" this morning, I deleted the post, because who wants to read a depressing post?
I promised I would be real with my writing...but sometimes real is an illusion. 
I decided to repost it after realizing the post had slipped through a crack and found its way to a dear friend who reminded me that there will only be one person who truly gets "this".
And that someone can only be found on my knees.
So here I bleed away, in the hopes to remind someone, anyone, that there will always be one who gets what no one else can.



"This"


Definitely won't be posting this one on face book.
God asked me to swallow an Elephant,
and I suppose in the life before I agreed.
I was a fool.  I must of given myself way to much credit.


I don't know how to digest this elephant.
I am angry.
And sad.
And hopeless.
Why?  I know I am suppose to pick up my wagon and
stop asking why, but I am to weak to pick up
anything right now.


Please God, let it be anything but this. 


What? you ask is This?


If I told you, you would stop inviting me to parties.
Or perhaps not.


My black pearls know.  I miss you all so much.  You are
so far away.  Perhaps the distance is good, because if you
were to close I would have to pretend with you too.
And I love you to much to pretend.


You were up with me on a long dark night, 
when This flared up.
And you stayed up, and lost sleep and held me when I cried.


I think Garrett is growing tired of This.
So am I.


It's raining.


So my sense of humor has not entirely left me, because
I put on a summer dress this morning. 
Perhaps, it will chase
away This.
We will see.
Tomorrow I will apologize for my self pity,
and put my boots on and pick up my wagon,
but today I can't.

The place that holds my heart

Warning: This is a sappy, sentimental post.  It is also a bit long:) 

So either bear with me, or click on by:)

"The truth is...

we are not that important,

unless we are important

to each other."

Jed Henrie

~

~spring break 2010~

Remembering my Roots

This is the place that holds my heart.

It's old.  It's very old.

The wood is weathered and washed

with years of rain, snow

and hot summer days.


Many summer days,
floating down the river
that runs as deep
as the emotions it stirs inside of me.

Growing up, I used to let people assume

that it was a modern day dude ranch,

just like in the movies.

It's a dude ranch alright,
with

Cows and horses

and cowboys as dusty

as the land they plow.

But their is nothing modern about it.

I am finding that the truth is much more 

interesting than fabrication.

Because what this place lacks in

bells and whistles and shiny things,

is the reminder of everything

beautiful, sustaining,  and

Real.

I am growing tired of the sparkly jeans,

bangles and tinkling jewels that seem

to suffocate the heart and soul

of my generation.
(I suppose every generation had their tinkling adornaments)

More than ever, I am searching for what

will truly sustain me and keep me 

Authentic.

That which once dazzled me

is now frazzeling me.

(is that a word?)

Because that is what I feel sometimes.

Give me something real,

and I will give you my heart.

Give me your love, your sincerity,

your truth,

and maybe...just maybe... we will find  out

what Joy really is.

I  don't have the energy for anything

else anymore.

I want to wrap myself  in the beauty,

 the smiles, and the tender mercies, 

that those I surround myself with,

give to me each moment.

I want to be there for every

tear that falls,

every day break, and every dark night.

 I want to hear the laughter

that makes my belly dance,

and the songs that make the dark nights

worth it. 

(This is Henry's drum set.)

If their is anything I teach him in this life

I hope I teach him where he comes from,

the blood that runs through his veins,

and the duty he has to generations past

and generations ahead.

This is my family tree.

It hangs on the dusty bedroom wall

with pride.

(Humble pride)

This is the crazy colauge of pictures

past and present.

We spent Easter weekend at the ranch.

 It was...oh so very cold,

but quite and still.

It was filled with candy, conference and home cooking.

(I love to cook at the ranch, because calories don't count there:)

I love to walk around in my old gray sweater

and funny warped slippers.

Dad taught my kids how to carve in the

firewood.

This is his latest carving.

~Nothing without work~

This is the man, who went to war

and saved every penny, so that he

could come home and buy the ranch

from my great grandmother...

who was running it alone.

He understood the principle of

"Nothing without work"

I will never forget riding on 

the back of grandpa's horse.

His spearamint gum and coffee nibs

used to jingle in his front pocket

like coins.

They filled the air with his scent.

I loved the way he smelled

He always wore this robin egg blue

shirt and his Stetson hat.

I remember one day...

 I had my arms wrapped

 around his barrell chest, and

held on tightly with each

bump and jerk of the horse

as it galloped

along the green pastures

that fed the cows

and the horses that

chased the cows.

He brought the horse to a hault,

and quietly pointed out

the indian paint brush

that dangled along the banks of the river.

He gave me a stick of chewing gum,

and then we watched the sun go down,

on the land that holds my heart.

~I love you grandpa~

Balance

~Balance~

loosing it

finding it

fast forward

and

rewinding it

Here I go round

the bend

around and around

again

only to start

where I began.

I wrote this after a very clumsy day.

Oh mercy.

The cat is chasing her tail again.

Joy

Joy came in a tiny bundle to my sister in law
a few days ago. A brand new baby boy
fresh from Heaven. I am sure he will have a 
beautiful life, because he comes from a
beautiful mother, and not just on the inside
pretty.
So today I spent time with my nieces.


We went to the park~



We made funny faces~

We ate the lunches that Savannah packed 

for us~

River climbed a tree, to contemplate life,

and then he almost broke his arm.  

Then we made many more funny faces.

I wish I still had the courage

to climb a tree.

But the tree would break me,

or I would break the tree.

So I laid on the grass~

And put my feet up.

Then I played on the swing set.

I think I made funny faces, 

because Savannah wanted to take my

picture.

I wanted to take my picture,

because these are the days,

I never want to forget~

I wouldn't trade my children

for all the gold and glitter

in the world...not even for all

of Magleby's famous choclate cake.

We went to the ranch this week, and made

many silly faces there. 

I will write about that tomorrow.

Laundry pending.

(p.s)  Go swing on a play set...

(Reach for a natural High:)

Happy Birthday Mother~

I haven't been sleeping...Again.
Just Like you.  I remember waking up in the 
middle of the night, often, to find you
in the garden or in the kitchen...
making bread or breakfast granola.  
I miss your granola.
I keep having this dream that you never
really died, and when I see you, I apologize
for arranging the funeral.  And, I  wonder
how to tell everyone that your still here...not on the other side.
But you hug me anyway. I miss your great big hugs.
And I no longer feel stupid
for arranging your funeral.
You tell me to throw a big party
and celebrate your life, not mourn it.


So today I will celebrate your life,
instead of wishing for one more year with you.  
I will celebrate a few of my favorite things:
Memories:
1)I remember, the day you made me a pair of "traffic" jeans, and suprised 
me with an E.T shirt and Cindarella shoes.  I rode my bike to school
and my new pants got caught in the chain, and I couldn't budge them
away.  A situation that was soon amplified when "The bell boy's" 
( a whole other story), dog bit me.  There was no one to help me, so I
prayed you there.  And you came...just in the nick of time.
You always showed up just in the nick of time.


2)I remember, the summer day you ran out back and jumped into the baby pool with me...clothes, rollers, and all.  I started splashing and you splashed back...
and I will always love you for that~


3)I remember the day Henry was born.  My nurse was awful, we affectionatly called her the Inflicter. 
I was 35 weeks, fully effaced and dialated to a 4.  And though I was having contractions every three minutes, she refused to give me an epedural. She claimed it was because she didn't want to "encourage" the baby to come,
(well duh...the baby was comming sweetheart...(or not so sweetheart.)
The pain soon overwhelmed me. Next thing I knew, you were rippin the nurse a new one.  I loved the mama bear in you.  I got my epadural with in minutes.





4) I remember our sleepovers.  In your last year you were too ill to do much.
So you invited me to sleep over, often.  We would snuggle up, just like we did when I was a child,  watch home and garden t.v, play cards, laugh and cry...happy cries.
I always came home renewed, because...How can you not? Everyone that left you felt renewed, because you listened.  You went all the way with me...until all my fears, and insecurities vanished.  That is a rare quality...one I hope I will master some day.
You never gave advice, instead you conveyed trust in me.  And, I will always love
you for that, because advice is highly overrated.


5)I remember so much more than this post can handle...so I will sum it all up with my favorite things you taught me~
Live life intentionally.
Love fiercely.
Teach through love.
Hope for faith.
Give your heart fully...because love is recyclable. 
Know your Savior.
And always put on a fresh coat of lipstick, when you hear your husbands car pull in~
  

Happy Birthday Mom

Let me introduce you to the greatest woman I have ever  known.

A woman whose courage and compassion were an inspiration to all who knew her.

A woman who wasn't afraid to cry with you.  Laugh with you, or lay on the grass

and watch clouds with you.

She loved to watch clouds...mostly with her grandchildren, though I suspect she often did it alone.  

She loved to tease and make believe.  She taught my children to never be afraid of their imagination.

She loved water.  And she loved making sand castles with my children.

I so dig that she always got on the ground with them...achy joints and all.

And I so dig her fierce devotion to the love of her life.

She believed in romance.  She believed in soul mates.  She believed in love.

And I believe that she is watching over those she loved...with fierce devotion...even now.
Tomorrow is her birthday.  I will write to her tomorrow,  because today I need to cry.
But I will try to laugh as well, because that is what we did together.  We laughed and we cried.  She was my safe place to cry.  She was my safe place period.  I miss you mom.