May 31, 2024

I didn't sleep much that night. Maybe a few minutes here and there. Full of shock, denial, and heartbreak. How could this be reality? I tossed and turned and prayed for some kind of peace. Some kind of solace. And then the lyrics to "It Is Well with My Soul" raced through my mind. 

When peace like a river, attendeth my way

When sorrows like sea billows roll me to say

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well

with my soul

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come

Let this blest assurance control

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate

And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

It is well (it is well)

With my soul (with my soul)

It is well, it is well with my soul

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious though

My sin, not in part, but the whole

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul!

It is well (it is well)

with my soul (with my soul)

It is well, it is well, with my soul

It is well (it is well)

with my soul (with my soul)

It is well, it is well, with my soul!

I could imagine my dad loudly and happily singing this song. If you know my dad, you know he LOVES to sing. I was comforted to think of this scene in heaven. 

I woke that morning, packed my bags, and caught a flight to Arizona to be with my family.  As I was trying to pack for this unexpected trip I stood in my closet frozen at the thought that I would need to pack something to wear to my dad's funeral. I knew immediately that I didn't want to wear black . . . but I didn't know what I wanted to wear. I texted my sweet friend, Rachel, and said I couldn't think straight and didn't know what to pack or wear. She asked if he had a favorite color. I said, he loves BYU football - BYU blue would be perfect. 

I arrived at the airport in a daze. Watching all these people going about their day and lives like everything was normal. When nothing was normal. Everything was completely different. I struggled to keep from crying in public and was grateful that the people seated next to me didn't seem interested in conversation. 

My sweet sister in law, Amber, picked me up from the airport. We embraced and cried and talked about our experiences over the past 18 hours. Still in complete shock. She took me to my parents' home where my mom and sister, Audrey, had just finished talking with the bishop of my parents' ward about planning the funeral. How was this real? We all hugged and cried and talked and cried and sat in silence and cried. 

Mom got a message from the mortuary about setting an appointment to go over everything. She asked if we could do a viewing on Thursday or Friday and a graveside Friday or Saturday. The woman kept saying, "I don't have access to calendars - those dates and times may work, but you have to talk to Miguel." Throughout the day Audrey, Amber and I each tried to get in touch with Miguel but were all told the soonest he could talk to us was Monday morning.

We were frustrated but trusted that they would be handling everything and we decided to go ahead and schedule the memorial for Friday, June 7th - no matter what. My boys were going to be leaving for a 2 week service trip to Peru on Saturday and it was very important to me that they be able to come to the funeral, be with family, and say goodbye to their Papa. 

May 30, 2024 - The day the world stopped

 It was a normal evening. David, Josh and Andrew had just returned home from baseball practice. We ate dinner. David and I talked current events, family schedules, finances, the usual. We cleaned up dinner and I laid down on the couch to relax for a few minutes. At 6:40pm I got a text that would change everything. My cousin texted: "My mom just called and told us about Steve. We are so sorry . . . please know that you guys are in our prayers."

What?!? What did your mom tell you about my dad? Why are you sorry? What happened!? 

I showed the text to David and we both decided not to panic - just figure out what was going on. The first thought in my mind was that maybe my dad had died - but NO WAY! So I determined that maybe he'd had a heart attack or something and was in the hospital. I thought my mom might be busy at the hospital with him so I called my sister, Audrey - no answer. 

I then called my sister Natalie. "What's going on with dad? I just got a text from our cousin that he's so sorry about Steve - why??" She responded, "I don't know - we left for a vacation this morning and we're on the road. I haven't heard anything." We decided she would call our sister in law, Amber and I would call our mom.

A few rings and mom answered. "Mom, what is going on?? I just got a text from our cousin that he's sorry about dad - why??" Mom . . . "I am so sorry, dad is dead."

"What?!!? What?!? No! No! This can't be real! No!!! How!?! No!!"

Mom: "I am so so sorry. We were at the gym exercising. He said he was going to sit down to rest and when I went to get him after I finished my work out, he was gone. I am so sorry."

This can't be real, this can't be real, this CAN'T be REAL!!!

But it was.

Life Goes On; Depression and All

 It's been a while. Six and a half years actually. A lot has changed since then. A lot has stayed the same. We've added another baby (this time a girl!) and changed careers and moved states. And somewhere in all this time I feel like I've lost myself. I guess five kids, work and life in general can do that to you. So, I've come here. To see if I can find myself again. I don't mean that I'm unhappy or unsatisfied with my life. I know that I have so much for which to be grateful - and I am. 

I have struggled with depression for the past several years. Probably most of my adult life. But I've been pretty good at muddling through. It's hard to just muddle through anymore when I am responsible for 5 children, work 2 part time jobs and have other family and church responsibilities. So I've tried a couple of medications; Wellbutrin, Prozac and Lexipro. They all seemed to work initially . . . and then they didn't plus they had side effects. 

I've resigned myself to the fact that I will probably always have some amount of depression and anxiety. And that's ok. I can do hard things. But I fee like I need to figure out the questions like; what's your hobby? What do you like to do in your free time? What are you passionate about? I honestly couldn't even tell you my favorite color, movie or food. I feel like I have existed for so long to take care of my family that I have completely forgotten who I am. I don't know how to figure this out, but I will. If there's one thing I do know about me it's that I am willing to take chances and I don't give up without a fight. 

Please describe your job duties

As I filled out a job application tonight I came to the last prompt regarding my current temporary job. Please describe your job duties . . . and I sat and I thought . . . how could I possibly describe in a few sentences my 'duties'?

See, for the past 4 months I have been working nearly full time as a Head Start teacher. The position I have was created purely out of desperation to provide support to the 2 lead teachers. Seasoned teachers that had been brought to this particular class to help regain control and structure. Teachers that for the first 2 weeks of school were going home every night and crying.

See, the classroom in which I am teaching is located in the center of government funded housing. The classroom is on the bottom floor of an apartment complex. There are 3 complexes on the property and our class is in the middle of it all. The neighbors smoke within feet of our playground and we often hear people shouting at one another. It is not uncommon for police helicopters to circle the complex or to see young children walking around with no shoes and old clothes.

See, some of my students live in those apartment buildings and the ones that don't live in similar ones. Or they live in old homes with no heat or a/c, or sometimes they can't get to school because their parents' car has broken down and they can't get it fixed. Or some of them live with grandparents or foster parents.

See, most of my kids have experienced trauma in their short little lives. Some were placed in foster care as toddlers because they were found abandoned and neglected to fend for themselves. One tells me that dad calls mom a B*T*H when he hits her and another says  that dad throws toys at him when he doesn't clean his room fast enough. One child cried daily for weeks out of fear that his parents wouldn't pick him up because he had been left alone before. Some have stories too heartbreaking to bear.

See, the first day I walked into my class there was disorder and chaos and 2 teachers doing their best to teach and love and praise the 20 children in their care. Children begging for approval and love and safety. So, what are my job duties?

My duty is to look at these children and really see them, and love them. My duty is to create a safe haven for some of these kids that are most safe when they are at school. My duty is to look beyond the misbehavior and find out what makes each child special. My duty is to help these kids love to learn and love school so that they can fight back against a culture that teaches them nothing of value. My duty is to put a smile on my face and wrap these kids in hugs when sometimes I'd rather walk out the door and never look back.

If I knew

I worry sometimes about being all to everyone in my little family. And I don't even mean the cooking, crafting, party planning, taxiing, shopping, extras. I mean, how in the world am I supposed to fill this role of mother and wife to 5 . . . five people. My heart aches to be able to give myself wholly to each of them individually, but apparently the laws of physics don't work that way. I want to be able to sit and play games with Luke, read books with Seth, race cars with Joshua, snuggle my baby, and have just one uninterrupted conversation with my husband. The hours between 3-7pm can only be described as chaos in our home. It's a whirlwind of after school snacks, homework, dinner making, piano practicing, playing, dinner eating, bathing, story book reading, children wrestling, etc etc.

I can only hope that I am able to meet the most important needs and wants for each person. I hope and pray that things don't slip through the cracks, but I'm only one person. I had no idea how demanding this motherhood thing would be. No idea. I sometimes wonder if I really, really knew; would I still have done it?

If I knew that I would go months, years even without sleeping through the night. If I knew that simple requests would often be met with screaming and whining. If I knew that my body would be so exhausted from carrying/rocking a crying baby. If I knew I would spend the majority of my days secluded from any adults. If I knew that I'd spend hours preparing food only to have it most often rejected by those I'm trying to feed. If I knew I'd spend hour after hour cleaning up after other people. If I knew everything I wore would be spit up on, snotted on, and covered in who knows what else. If I really, really knew would I have done it?

If I knew that my baby would run his fingers through my hair for comfort. If I knew that my 5 year old would jump up and down with excitement to see me after school and give me the biggest bear hug imaginable. If I knew that my toddler would scrunch his face up to request a kiss. If I knew that my 7 year old would pray for me every day to have a good day as I take care of the babies by myself. If I knew that 4 little boys would snuggle next to each other on the couch with arms and hands intertwined. If I knew that my very presence meant absolutely everything to them. If I really, really knew would I have done it?

This is by far the hardest thing I have done in my life. But I can't even begin to describe how it's also the best thing I have ever done in my life. I never could have really really known anything about what I would experience, but yes, I would choose to do it all again in a heartbeat.

 

And then there were 4

Our family and our hearts grew. Somehow, some way when we didn't know if there was any more room in our hearts to give it turns out there was always a place waiting. A place that cried out; yes, this place is just for you! And then we wonder how we ever lived without that piece of our hearts. We gaze at that beautiful, fresh face and just know it belongs.

Andrew Hyrum

Field Trip to a Pioneer Village

Luke's class spent 6 weeks talking about Pilgrims and pioneers, so to end it they got to go on a field trip to a pioneer village. This village has gathered old buildings from across the state and brought them to one location and set up a little town. There were several homes, a school house, bank, jail, church, dress shop, printing shop and many other buildings. There were volunteers at each building to explain it's history and what happened there. It was a lot of fun and I learned a bit as well. The kids thought the school was pretty neat and couldn't believe that kids used to get paddled for misbehaving. I couldn't believe how many people lived in one room homes! There was one home the size of our family room with a loft and they had 10 children!

the long bus ride

school house

jail

panning for gold