trying not to give up on blogging

It's 12:17 am and Tod is camping with the kids at Red Rock and I can't sleep.

I sat down at the computer tonight to get Christmas cards ordered but kept thinking, I never write anymore.

My senses have dulled.  I'm not as sharp or as quick as I used to be.  I used to spit out a blog post every other day while my babies napped.  Now I'm lucky if I get a couple bills paid and my lunch 

inhaled while my (last) baby naps.  

Yesterday Ann Dee texted me that she hopes I'm writing memories down about Kristi.  Which I want to do but when?  Because at night when the kids are in bed, all I have energy for is usually an episode or two of SNL reruns.  

Fall has come and gone and suddenly this week our weather has gone from perfection to a little chilly.  Tod is a good dad to be in a tent right now, probably freezing with three kids, probably all on top of him.  

I want to remember how this year felt.  The good days and the hard days.  If I ever want to transport myself back to the last eight months I will need to listen to Tom Petty or Indigo Girls Pandora. All of the hours spent in the car driving to swim lessons, football practice, soccer, scouts, Kidshine, etc.. totally lost in my own thoughts and listening to music that made it feel like she was in the car next to me.

 I'll need to remember November 8th when I texted my sister in laws: "I'd bet my kids' lives on this election that Hilary Clinton will win." And how he first won Florida, then Ohio, and then the screen kept lighting up red and we stared with our mouths wide open in total shock.  

I'll need to remember how Lennon and Larry became so independent this year.  Waking themselves up each morning with an alarm clock, getting their own breakfast, dressing themselves and being ready for school before I'm even home from the gym.  How the other night Tod and I went to see a friend's house and when we got home, Lennon was doing the dishes and the kitchen was clean.

How our baby isn't a baby anymore but a sweet little boy.  Who kisses me 10 times minimum during one Costco trip. Says he's sorry pretty fast because time out isn't fun and he is all about fun.  And Halloween candy.  Which he can sniff out a mile away.

I'll want to remember Ruby who didn't want to go to bed the other night so when I laid her down and turned off the light she said, "Wow....and I was just starting to like you and now THIS."

And then Larry.  Who came home with a list of what he was thankful for.  

"I am thankful for the earth, my family, my house, my school, when kids include me, my friends and my aunt who died."

Don't forget St. George marathon where your knee hurt with each step but your best friend of 10 years was right next to you and that made it ok.

Don't forget Tod's high school reunion.  And don't go next time.

Always remember when Ruby broke her arm just to have Lennon break his thumb a couple weeks later.  I mean seriously.  SERIOUSLY.

Remember the night your kitchen was filled with people you love while Tod cracked open three HUGE lobsters and skinned (?) a sheepshead fish with a dull knife ON YOUR KITCHEN COUNTER but your heart wanted to burst with happiness.  Friends who are family laughing and eating and happy.

Don't forget that happiness and sadness can coexist and have this year.  Lots of both in 2016.

Thanksgiving is next week.  I am thankful we have the whole week off.  I am thankful to be alive and healthy with kids and a husband who are healthy.  I'm thankful to have happiness and peace in my life.  Thankful to have the best BEST friends, some near and some far away.  Thankful for extended family on both sides who love us.  Thankful my sister is finally, finally ok.

Most of all, I'm thankful I'm not camping tonight.  

thank you sissy

Dear Sissy,

Last night we went out with friends but Tod and I drove separately.  On my way home alone, my thoughts turned to you.  During the day when the sun is high and there are kids running in and out of my house, I can keep my thoughts pretty happy.  But when the kids are in bed and the moon rises and especially when I'm alone, I start letting myself remember that you're gone.  As I drove home I started talking to you out loud.  As if you were sitting in the passenger seat.  I told you how overwhelmed I feel this summer carrying this loss on top of my normal life.  And how people ask if I'm feeling better....how does a person answer that?  Yes?  No?  Yes because I'm learning to carry more weight and pain each day but no because I wish I didn't have to?  

Then I asked you for a favor.  I said these words out loud: "Kristi, please come see me in my dreams tonight.  Tell me that you are ok.  Show me that you are happy and prove that you still exist.  Dad has done it for me when I've needed it and now I need it from you.  Please come in my dreams tonight."

Then I got home, closed the garage door and went to bed. 

The next morning I completely forgot about that conversation with you.  I was rushing Ruby out the door to art camp when Larry said to me, "Hey Mom....I want to tell you about my dream."  I told him I'd hear all about it when I got back.

Awhile later I was cleaning up breakfast and Larry was quietly sitting on the couch.  I realized I had blown him off earlier so I asked about his dream.  I sat down next to him so he felt like I cared.  Even though hearing my kids' dreams every morning is about the worst thing on the planet.

Here is what he said:

"In my dream, our family was altogether and we were traveling through a portal.  It was kind of like a tunnel that you had to go through to get to the afterlife.  We were in the portal all together but then you guys left me.  I was stuck in the portal all alone and I was so scared!  But then the door opened and Kristi was standing there.  She was smiling at me. She kneeled down and gave me a big hug, and then I woke up."

As he told me his dream, his lips were quivering and he had big tears rolling down his cheeks.  

I asked what Kristi looked like.  He said, "Exactly how she looked when she was alive."

I asked if Kristi looked happy.  He smiled and said, "Yes.  Really happy."

I stared into his face and felt grateful for his intuitive spirit.  Grateful for being so available that Kristi was able to make her way through and say, I'm okay.

I told Tod the story and now we were all emotional.  We talked about the day of the funeral...afterwards we had to drive home and Larry was quiet most of the way.  When we stopped for dinner I sat next to him and asked how he was feeling and if he was okay.  His answer:

"I was feeling really sad, especially when they opened the casket and I saw her body.  It didn't look like her at all.  So I started feeling scared and Uncle Tommy started talking....but then his voice faded out and I heard Kristi whisper in my ear: ' Don't worry Larry...I'm okay,' and then I wasn't scared anymore."

Again, with tears rolling down his face.

Larry is my sincere, kind, sensitive, and emotionally aware child.  If I had to send a message from the other side, I'd probably send it to Larry as well.

Kristi, we miss you so much that it hurts.  Thanks for the message though and thank you for staying close.  I can do this as long as you stay close.

Kristi's first half marathon

When you died I was training with some friends for a half marathon.  I decided to quit training because I felt too sad and tired and defeated.  I couldn't sleep and my eating was sporadic. However, Tod talked me into continuing so I slowly picked myself up every Saturday morning and dragged myself out of bed and through a long run.  I felt weak and slow and heavy.  Each run I became slower and slower and I started to doubt if I could run the race at all.

The week of the race the forecast was SNOW AND RAIN up at Mt. Charleston.  They said wear gloves, beanies, waterproof jackets...it sounded awful.  I've done two marathons in pouring rain and it is miserable.  I was dreading it.

That morning I woke up at 3:30 am to get ready.  As I drove to Megan's house I started talking to you out loud.  Told you how crappy I had trained.  How bad the weather was supposed to be.  What little desire I had to run that day.  I asked if you would run with me.  Stay with me.  Help me.  Because I kept training for you.  Every step was for you.  Every day that I get out of bed I do it because I am going to keep living for you.  So this race was for you too.  To show you I can keep going and that we won't give up because you didn't either.

As our buses drove us up the mountain the clouds were dark and heavy.  I had a pit in my stomach as I envisioned an hour of standing in the rain followed by a couple hours running in it.  When we got off the bus, though, the clouds were parting.  People were shedding their layers and there was a huge sense of surprise and relief because this was perfect running weather.  We walked to the starting line and as I crossed it I started moving my feet faster and faster but could hardly feel the pavement below me.  My breath was easy and it felt like I was flying.  Megan signaled to her watch and told me we were running a 7:30 pace.  That is NOT my pace.  I'm closer to a 9 minute mile but we kept going because it felt effortless.

Around mile 7 I started to do the math and realized I could finish in under two hours.  This was unbelievable to me because my pace has always been slow and my times for half marathons usually closer to 2:25.  I figured I'd probably have to slow down soon so I didn't get my hopes up but I said out loud to you, "Kristi...let's finish under two.  Let's go faster."  I had the playlist you made for me playing in my ears and my feet were still not even touching the ground.  I was passing people without trying and wondering the whole time WHAT IN THE HELL WAS HAPPENING because this was not my pace.

The last two miles were our fastest.  I realized that I had help.  I could feel the lift from somewhere.  So we sprinted the last two (uphill) miles and finished in 1:55 (according to race website).  To my total and complete surprise.

This is how I know you were there: I've been running a long time and this was not even close to my pace.  I had energy and power and it wasn't coming from me.  We had never run a race together before but I have a feeling there will be more to come.

It must've been so hard when you were alive to never help anyone but yourself.  You were so sick and didn't have time or money or reserves to give much else.  All of your resources went towards feeding your addiction.  I look back and realize that you weren't selfish...you were a very very sick girl.  Your addiction took over years ago.  You wanted to help us, you wanted to give Christmas gifts, you wanted to spoil our kids but you couldn't.  I understand now.  It feels like now you actually have something to offer us.  Your story.  Your spirit.  Your tragic death as a reminder to treat life carefully and love fully.  And running with you felt like running with wings and I appreciate that you took the time to show me you're still with us.  I needed that.  I will never forget.

Sometimes at night when I'm trying to sleep I picture you laughing so hard that your eyes close and squint and you throw your head back and tears start to run


down my face.  I can still see you laying on the couch talking with my kids or snuggling during a movie or driving me somewhere in your car making me listen to a new song.  This pain is so sharp.  Please stay close.  I'm not ready to let you go.

xoxoxo

dear sissy sue

Dear Sissy,

Over the weekend I put my foot down and said NOT ONE MORE DAY OF THIS MESSY GARAGE so Tod spent about eight hours on Saturday cleaning it out for me.  He found a mix CD you made for my long runs a couple years ago.  You wrote on it: Mix #1 Love, Sissy. When Tod showed it to me I immediately turned on the car and rolled down the windows and we listened to the whole thing while we Tod cleaned the garage.  As I listened to the songs you hand picked for me I remembered in October when you wanted to come out and clean our garage for me.  It never happened but here we were, listening to your mix and cleaning it without you.  Life is weird sometimes.

You've missed so much in the short eight weeks since Mom found you and you were no longer you.  I saw an elderly Asian woman at Costco the other day wearing high waisted white mom jeans with a HUGE Harley Davidson patch sewn onto her back pocket.  I reached for my phone to take a picture and send to you.  I'm so mad you've done this to yourself and to all of us.

Tommy and Shantay brought Cooper out for their first LPA conference at Red Rock.  We took the boys to some of the activities and I was so proud of them.  They mingled and made conversations and treated everyone kindly and with respect.  Not to mention they tore up the dance floor which was impressive; they were the only average size kids out there.  I was so proud. You would've loved it.

Ruby turned four.  She picked out a princess dress and crown to wear to her party.  Katy was in town and helped me make a treasure hunt in the culdesac.  The kids had fun but when they left I was ready for bed.

I've been running a lot lately.  I have lost the desire to run so I do it now purely to clear my head and feel like a normal person again.  Things I used to love to do I feel apathetic towards now.  Hopefully that doesn't last forever.  I have a race this Saturday and thanks to you...now I have some music for it too.

Larry's shoes looked like this for awhile so I finally bought him a new pair.  They were blue and red and pretty cool skater looking shoes.  We took the kids bowling that night and Larry LEFT HIS BRAND NEW SHOE AT THE BOWLING ALLEY and someone stole them.  So he had to wear these again until he earned a second new pair.  I felt  bad sending him to school like this everyday but  YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE YOUR SHOES WHEREVER.  Lesson learned I think.

Just a normal outfit for Ruby these days.

Tod took each of the boys to work with him for a whole day AKA they went to lunch and a movie.  They were thrilled.

He's also coaching their flag football team this spring.  They are really good!  We've only lost once and I can't believe how these boys can run and pass so well already.  You would seriously love watching them play.

 Life at home has been pretty normal.  At least it looks normal on the outside.  On the inside I'm usually nauseous, anxious, or just deeply deeply sad.  Losing you has created a pain in my gut that I've never felt  before.  I'm okay until I really let myself feel and know that you're gone and then it's all I can do just to stay upright and finish dinner or laundry or homework or whatever.  What I wish I could do is just stay in bed.  Trying to get up and live everyday.

Finally, Lennon built his first Pinewood Derby car.  He worked SO MANY HOURS on it.  He and Tod would leave for nights in a row to work on it.  

Before the race he said, "Mom...I think I'm going to win."

That's when I told him this was his first year...winning isn't everything...we can be happy even if we don't win, etc...

And he won.  The whole thing.  

I wish I could call you and tell you all this even just one more time.  

XOXO

dear sissy,

Do dead people read blogs?  Probably not.  But yesterday Ann Dee texted me and said, "Be sure to write everything down"  and since I have about four followers I figured I could do it here.  Although now I want a billion followers because I want everyone to know that they probably know someone who will die from drugs.  Because it started innocently with pills which have no scent or marks on your body but those became too expensive so you tried heroin and now you're in the ground.

But you're not really in the ground.  Because on Monday I was driving in my car with three loud kids so I turned the radio down and started talking to you out loud.  I told you that I was having a crappy day and how little things like making dinner overwhelm me and that I wish you were in the passenger seat right then.  Then I told you I WISH WE HAD MADE A PLAN in case this had happened.  Made a way to communicate that you were ok after you'd died.  Why hadn't we designated a sign or a song so that we could stay in touch?  I finished by asking you to let me know if you were near, let me know if you were close to us.  PLEASE.  I finished my talk and turned the radio back up just as Neil Young's Heart of Gold started playing.  I will not forget the chills up my leg and how I laughed and cried the rest of my drive home.  

Tomorrow marks four weeks since you died.  Four weeks since you told Mom you weren't hungry but were going to read before bed but instead died in a room all alone.  But were you alone?  When I am feeling hopeful, I picture Dad reaching through some type of veil or wall or door and pulling you in to be with him.  I imagine him saying that Mom had done all she could; that we had done all we could and he would take it from there.  Is that true?  And how is Dad?

But did we do all we could?  I find myself putting dishes away and sobbing apologies to you at 10 am sometimes.  Sometimes I don't know why I didn't get on a plane when you were overdosing last summer.  Why wasn't I doing all the research I'm doing now on heroin?  Why didn't I watch that documentary about addiction two years ago when you asked me to?  I'm sorry I'm sorry I am so so sorry.  I didn't take it seriously because I guess I didn't know it was serious.  I guess I believed you to make myself more comfortable.  Maybe you would've died anyway but mostly I am convinced I could have saved you and didn't.  Instead of paying for methadone or rehab, I remodeled my house last summer.  Even if you've forgiven me, will I ever be able to forgive myself?

I took care of you most of your life.  Mom would argue but I basically raised you.  Got you ready every morning for preschool and walked you there.  Picked you up after school.  Walked you to kindergarten everyday and took you home after school.  Baked microwave cakes for you before Mom got home from work.  I liked that you were a tomboy and I liked that you were different.  I was the only one who you would let curl your hair for church.  I was there when you slid into home base and broke your ankle and that was IMPRESSIVE for a tiny little girl.  I adored you.

When you started lying and stealing and changing I still loved you.  I never stopped.  I just had to create space.  I had to protect my kids.  I didn't know where you had gone.  There were times when the old Kristi was back and you once asked what the old Kristi was like.  She was beautiful, smart, witty, funny, fun, adventurous, caring, logical, a great listener who gave excellent advice.  Remember my breakup in college?  And how you reminded me that he was the biggest dork on the planet and we had the best laugh?  You were right and I felt better.  That was the old Kristi.  But she was fading away.

We took this picture at Dad's grave.  Weird to look back....you are now buried right where that light shines in the background.  

I'm sorry I talked to you about college instead of rehab six days before you died.  Sorry we were sending you inspirational speeches the night before you died when actually you needed professional help.  I'm sorry I didn't take care of you in the end.  I'm sorry you're not here anymore.  When I think about Thanksgiving, birthdays, summers, hikes, visits without you it is unbearable.  Sometimes I forget why I'm sad and when I remember it's like being punched in the gut.  When Dad died I was heartbroken but there was nothing we could have done more for him.  Your death is such a tragedy.  You were so young and beautiful.  Remember that last weekend when we went for Indian food one night and you were getting all the riddles right on the first try and Lennon started crying?  You told him, "Listen Lennon...I don't have a lot going for me right now.  Let me have these riddles."

Remember when you texted me and asked if you should wear your Only God Can Judge Me shirt to court the next day?  You always, always, always made me laugh.  

Right now I feel a lot of guilt and regret and sadness.  I'm hoping with time and maybe some help I can turn that into something more positive.  Our family is focusing on having LIGHT right now.  We have been memorizing Grandpa's favorite scripture, D&C 50:24: That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.

I will try to focus on light.  I will try to fill my mind with light.  I will try to be a light to other people even though my light feels dim right now.  Sissy, I'm sorry I let you down and I'm sorry I didn't know.  I should have known.  I'll miss you until I am with you again.

Emoji heart, emoji skier, emoji Asian twins, emoji eggplant, emoji crocodile, emoji tacos, emoji broken heart.

funeral talk

I want to begin by publicly thanking Kristi for helping me almost realize one of my dreams. I have a really weird talent for knowing song lyrics. I always wanted to be on that show Don't Forget the Lyrics. So when their audition tour came to Vegas, she made me go. We drove to this seedy hotel downtown and Kristi signed me up. But then we were told I had to PERFORM a song on a stage in front of producers and people and I wanted to leave. I know lyrics but I am NOT a performer.  Kristi made me stay and auditioned too so I wouldn't be alone. While we stood in line, we called my dad and asked for advice on which songs to sing.  She decided on Billy Joel's Allentown and I chose Cheeseburger in Paradise.  She went first and worked the crowd.  Sang so loud, danced on the stage.  Not because she wanted to get on the show but because she wanted me to follow her lead.  So I did.  I went nuts.  And because of her mentoring and faith in me,  I made it into the semi finals.............of tryouts. My favorite part of that day was just sitting on the floor, waiting our turns, and laughing with each other. So thank you Kristi. We almost did it.

A week before she died, we came into town and took Kristi through the Provo temple openhouse. As most of you probably know, it nearly burned down six years ago and many were afraid it was lost forever.

Instead, this burnt tabernacle was restored. They took six years to beautify and rebuild it. This weekend it will be dedicated as a temple. What felt like a tragedy and a loss has actually become something even more beautiful and sacred.

Kristi held Ruby on her lap during the introduction video. Then she walked with us through the beautiful rooms and we talked about how beautiful every single detail was. We even took pictures afterwards.

That weekend we had long talks about her life. She was discouraged. She felt very alone. While I didn't know the extent of her pain or problems, I knew she needed hope. Desperately. I also realized that I needed hope for her too.

I told her during one of our talks that she was just like this tabernacle. She laughed but I told her she had been hurt and burned and damaged but could be rebuilt. I told her she could be restored. I told her that these decisions didn't define her. She had tears rolling down her face as we talked.

So we made a plan. We made a list. I gave her a two week set of daily goals. I told her I wanted a text each night letting me know what she had accomplished. The list was simple. Take a shower. One hour walking in the sunshine each day. Do something for Mom.  Make your bed. Kneel before bed and pray. She tearfully agreed to everything on the list. I wondered whether or not she would follow through.

The next day she texted me. She had accomplished her daily goals. In fact, she texted me every night her last week. Her texts always listed her accomplishments that day including praying on her knees before bed. 

She told me that for the first time in a long time, she had hope. 

Elder Jeffrey R Holland said, 

"Every one of us has times when we need to know things will get better. Moroni spoke of it in the Book of Mormon as “hope for a better world.” ² For emotional health and spiritual stamina, everyone needs to be able to look forward to some respite, to something pleasant and renewing and hopeful, whether that blessing be near at hand or still some distance ahead. It is enough just to know we can get there, that however measured or far away, there is the promise of “good things to come.”

Kristi was taking action. She was trying the best that she could to rise from her ashes. She felt loved and supported. She had hope of good things to come.

The fact that Kristi died before she could accomplish these goals does not mean she is done. I see this death as a new beginning for Kristi. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf once said, 

"We are made of the stuff of eternity. We are eternal beings, children of the Almighty God, whose name is Endless¹³ and who promises eternal blessings without number. Endings are not our destiny."

Kristi left this world with hope for a better future. She will carry that hope with her into heaven. Her hope was made up of a family who loved her, friends who never gave up on her, and I believe, a knowledge that God lives and Jesus is indeed the Christ.

If you know someone who needs hope, please leave this funeral today and help them. Please pick up your phone and call them.  Please get into your car and visit them.  If you feel hopeless, please remember Kristi and start small. Take a shower.  Take a walk.  Make your bed.  Kneel down and pray. Ask God for help. He knows your name. He loves every single one of us. As Elder Holland said in that same conference talk, 

"Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it. You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”

I am heartbroken but I have hope. 

Kristi, my Sissy, I will miss your beautiful face. I will miss our talks. I will miss how much you loved our kids. I will miss all your  basketball games we watched while Tod yelled, "Put Em in a body bag, Provo!" I will miss making you no baked while you lay on the couch. I will miss hiking the Y with you and laughing with you and every, every, everything with you.

You were beautiful here on earth but now you have the opportunity to transform into a sacred and holy temple yourself and become more than you ever thought possible. Rise from your ashes, Sissy. And give Dad a hug from me.

I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe in God. I have read and believe in the Book of Mormon that teaches about love, repentance, forgiveness, redemption and most of all, hope.

goodbye to my sissy sue

How do you tell your baby sister goodbye?

How do you sum up a life in an obituary (click here to read)?

How do you plan a funeral, write a talk, grieve with family when your heart feels shattered?

How do you accept that she's not coming back?

How do you never text or call her again?

 Kristi's prom, 2003

Kari's wedding, August 2011

Hiking the Y, Aug. 2015

Tommy's wedding, October 2010

June 2007; eight months pregnant with Lennon so Kristi spent the day in the pool with me so I could lay on my stomach.

Tommy's wedding

San Diego, April 2011

Christmas Eve at Outback, 2010

The hat we buried her in

After the funeral.  Brent played one of her favorite songs, "Heart of Gold" then he and Diana played "Blackbird" before we had to say goodbye.

Buried close to my dad

My last kiss to her.  Followed by about 10 more.

When I look at these pictures I'm furious that I didn't assume she was still using heroin.  On the left is the weekend before she passed.  She looked horrible and felt horrible and acted quiet and depressed.  How could I not have known?  Why didn't I throw her in my car and take her straight to a treatment center?  How could I leave her?

Grief comes in waves of nausea, disbelief, regret, but mostly just a deep pain that doesn't let up because I cannot believe she is gone.