sissy

This is my baby sister Kristi.  Her real name is Kristine Mae but most people call her Kristi and I call her Sissy.  When she calls Tod's phone it says Kristi Lou Hoo is calling.

 

She is one minute younger than her twin, Kari.

She once peed her pants on command for five bucks.

She was on the varsity basketball team as a freshman.

I loved watching her play.

She's very beautiful.

As a kid she had a bowl haircut that she never wanted curled.

I walked her to and from school everyday her kindergarten year.

One time she (and Kari) spray painted their best friend Carter after tying him to a tree.

Another time they set a barn on fire.

 

Growing up, Kristi and I used to tease Kari until she cried.

 

Then Tommy started teasing Kristi until she cried.

 

Then I left for college and my mom said everyone got along better.

Taken Aug. 4, 2013
Dad's grave

Last week we hung out with Sissy Sue.  She has been struggling but has decided to make her life better.  Tomorrow her official recovery begins.  We are praying for and support her.  We want her around.

She's a favorite with my kids.  She'll always go down slides, jump off high dives and take them for walks.  Kid heaven.

 
 

Except for this picture where she's smiling and beautiful but holding a hot mess.  Sorry about the photo bomb.

 

 

 

One night we picked up some ice cream and flowers and headed to Dad's grave.  It rests next to a huge Weeping Willow surrounded by beautiful mountains.  I told her about the ministering of angels.  How I believe that those we love surround us after their physical death and protect us. I've felt my dad's strength.  I hope she'll feel him too. 

 

 I believe he'll be right next to her if she allows it.

We love you Sissy Sue.  Come home safely.

better to burn out

Big birthday weekend.  Preparations began on Thursday with these two and their new paints from Grandma KK.

Lennon said:

 

"I'm going to paint lots of tiger stripes on this one because Dad likes beasts."

 Then Karic showed up fresh from finals and joined us in celebrating Tod's birthday.  And then watched our kids all weekend so we could leave our kids all weekend.

 The only picture we have to document the getaway. Ate a lot and had uninterrupted conversation.  I even slept in until 8.

 Sunday night we celebrated my dad's birthday at home.  He spent the first five years of his life in Japan.  One of his favorite dinners was Gyoza.  I grew up making and eating this regularly; it was cool to see my kids do the same.  He would've wanted us all together, eating and laughing.

When I feel sad about losing him I try to remember that he never lost his independence or his dignity.  We never had to put him in a home or watch him fade away.  

 

 "It's better to burn out...than to fade away."

 

- Neil Young

 

Happy Birthday to two of the best guys I know.

 

[Birthday photo courtesy of Tod's sister Ali.  Nailed it.]

more kites

While we were in California we spent a day at Huntington Beach. Our family visited that same beach three years ago when I was pregnant with Larry.  I think I wanted to go back to remember being there with my dad.

We had a couple kites in our trunk so the boys spent the afternoon flying them.  It reminded me of the first time Lennon flew a kite the week my dad died.  And how in my last conversation with him I told him all about it and he was so proud.  This recent day on the beach, for one of the first times since he died, I felt like maybe he really was nearby.  It would've made him so happy.

Then:

Now:

The tangled knot that eventually ended the fun.  Although Tod tried pretty hard to unravel all that.

It's so sad but so good that life goes on.

I must miss him

Last night:

Me: Hey, Bob Seger is coming in December.  Wanna get tickets?
Tod: Oooooh I'd love to but I'm not 60.
Me:

still alive

On Monday afternoon this text came from my brother Tommy:

Earl Rose passed away today.


For over a year our good friends Paul and Diana have watched their dad suffer from leukemia. Not just leukemia but chemotherapy, blood transfusions, good days and dark days.  And on Monday he took his last breath.  My heart felt heavy picturing the family's pain knowing he's finally gone.  I remembered  losing my dad and how FINAL it felt.  Couldn't call him, couldn't see him, couldn't talk to him or sit next to him.  Gone.  

Because of my dad I'll never use these bike seats...used to terrify me.

I walked upstairs to the office to tell Tod.  I found him on the computer with Lennon -- teaching him how to play chess.  I stopped for a second and had flashbacks of my dad teaching Tod to play chess one Christmas in front of the lit tree.  In an instant I realized that even after a person dies, so many parts of them continue to live.  Through us.  My dad is still alive during lunchtime when I listen to Bob Seger while I make the boys their food.  A part of him lives when my boys sing lullabies from Neil Young and the Beatles.  I'm reminded that he's a part of me when I can't have ONE SINGLE ITEM on the car dash while driving.  He is still here.  He is in us.  He is at church, he is on the radio, he is the reason Lennon will learn to play chess.  


Earl will keep living as well.  Love you, Rose Family.  To read his courageous story, click HERE.

Happy Mother's Day

Three weeks before my dad died I went home for a weekend.  My mom looked tired.  We sat on the porch and she cried.  She cried about my dad and about how hard it was.  He was sick for 13 years.  Surgeries, hospital stays, dialysis, transplants.  We often focus on the person who's sick, not the one caring for them.  It's exhausting.  I still remember when Tod's phone rang at 3 am three weeks after our talk on the porch.  One of my first thoughts were, "Mom can finally breathe."

The week following his death we cleaned out all his stuff. Going through his bathroom closet tears flowed as I threw away tubing, needles, syringes, bandages, and endless bottles of prescription pills.  Living far away from the situation often removed me from the dailyness of it, all he was enduring and all my mom was enduring, too.  It seemed tragic that they'd spent the last 13 years dealing with disease instead of traveling or building their dream house or even just living a normal life.

Looking back now, those 13 years were not tragic but important.  My parents showed us what life/marriage is supposed to be: hard.  They also showed us what you do when life happens: keep going.  Marriage is not just for convenient times but for dark times as well.  My mom was loyal and true to my dad when he couldn't financially provide.  She stayed when he got sick.  She sacrificed everything for him and us.  It's comforting to know my dad lived a life full of love and devotion, thanks to my mom.  He had it good.  She was there for him until his last day.

I miss you Dad, and Happy Mother's Day Mom.  I want to be just like you.

True Love

My dad and me -- prom senior year

In college I had boyfriend who broke my heart.  My mom, sisters and friends quickly rallied around me: listening to me for hours, taking me out for the night, long drives with no destination.  My dad didn't do any of this. In fact, he didn't talk to me about it for a long time.  Instead, he came to me one day with an index card he'd laminated.  It read:

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear” (1 John 4:18)

"True love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the well-being of one's companion." 

— Gordon B. Hinckley 

On the back of the card he wrote:

 Someday you will find a partner who will "eliminate your fears."  These words have helped me in my marriage, maybe they'll help you in yours too!  Love, Dad

August 23rd

My parents were married in the Logan temple on August 23rd, 1979.  Don't you love her dress?  I think Kate Middleton was inspired by it.  So ahead of her time.

My parents met when my mom was in beauty school and my dad came in for a haircut.  If I've heard the story right, he was in the next day asking for a body wave this time. Any excuse to see her again. He loved my mom.  The day before he died we talked on the phone about Mother's Day.  He had bought her a Kindle and was excited to surprise her.  I told him it was probably his best idea yet but then he reminded me of the ring he once gave her with all her kids' birth stones.  We laughed because we both knew sometimes he wasn't the best at picking out gifts.  One Christmas all his presents to everyone were white elephant gifts he'd found at a thrift store. 

The last thing he said to me was,  "I'll call you on Mother's Day."  Instead of talking to him on Mother's Day, we spent the day planning his funeral and looking all over the house for my mom's Kindle.  We were sort of laughing and crying all at once, trying to think of where my dad would hide it.  I finally found it tucked away in his closet.  On top of it was a blank Mother's Day card that he never signed.

Celebrating Dad

This Sunday (Mother's Day) marks one year since my dad died.  I've been thinking about him a lot.  Instead of mourning his death, I want to celebrate the life he lived.  This week's posts and music are for him.  These songs reminds me of road trips in our van, my dad paying bills at the dining room table on Saturdays, and concerts together.

Which reminds me of my first story.

After my dad inititally got sick in 1997, he was bed ridden for a long time.  After about six months or so his strength started to return.  I surprised him with tickets to a Billy Joel concert and he was ecstatic.  When the day came, I started worrying about getting him up and down stadium stairs, making him stand for too long or just wearing him out altogether.  I was wrong.  He walked himself from the car parked blocks from the stadium, slowly made his way up the steep steps to our seats and stood for the entire concert. Whenever I hear Billy Joel I picture my dad, who we almost lost, standing next to me smiling towards the stage.

This picture was taken right before we left the house that night. 

Super Fan

Thanks to Sissy and how she always wins stuff on the radio, we saw an Aussie Floyd show last weekend.  My dad saw them in concert the last four years of his life; Tod jokes that if he'd had it his way his funeral would've been Pink Floyd and lasers.  Seriously. 

I've wanted to go for years and they didn't disappoint.  Neither did the crowd.  I have never been to a concert with trashier fans.  We had a gem right in front of us...an Aussie Floyd Super Fan.  

Super Fan = Only person standing, screaming every word while shaking their head back and forth, eyes closed, air guitar/keyboard/drum solos from their seat, and (in her case) shouting lyrics into her boyfriend's ears.  He was not into it.

Here is her hair and jacket.  Tod said the jacket was for a snowmobiling company and wants me to add she was wearing a beret.  

And here are her skills.  

Father's Day 2010

Kristi texted me today: "Where are the pictures from Father's Day?"

I may have avoided this post just because it was the first Father's Day without our dad. It was a crappy day but I think we all felt some peace, too. Hard to explain.

A few notes:

My boys love cemeteries. They love stomping on people's headstones and walking disrespectfully over final resting spots.

My dad would've thought that was funny.

Another note -- cemeteries are pretty crowded on Father's Day. I had no idea. And isn't the view from my dad's plot gorgeous? He would've liked that, too.

We spent the rest of the day in one of my dad's favorite spots. We were there just last summer for my mom's birthday and I remember it made him so happy.

[Left to right: Mystery Wheelchair Man, Kristi, Tommy holding Len, Mom, Kari]

Grief is a complex process. For me it began selfishly; feeling sorry for MY loss. Feeling sad for our family's loss. Feeling guilt, feeling regret. It has slowly progressed into acceptance of our new reality; acceptance of what our family looks and feels like now. It is very different. But I feel more joy for him now and more hope for us. We are okay and he is even better.