Thirty Five

Tomorrow is my birthday. My 35th.

When I was a child, I thought I'd die by the time I was "that old."

When I was a teen, I thought 35 was a lifetime away.

When I was in my twenties, I thought I'd have life figured out by that point.

But - once in my thirties - I've realized that my life has just begun. I am just beginning to learn all that I need to learn. I am barely sensing what the Lord needs me to be. And what I DO experience means so much more because of the context that lies beneath.

I have never been a person concerned with aging. My mother gave me that gift. I own every year of my life and have tried to fully LIVE every season Life has offered me. I am not concerned about age spots, wrinkles, or sagging tummy skin. Each represent a memory, laughter or - one of Life's most sacred experiences - child birth. All beautiful things. Things that make me smile with gratitude.

I have loved this season of being a Mother of young children. Can it be monotonous and exhausting? Oh yes. But the joys . . . oh, the joys. There are none greater. I feel so blessed to be a Mother.

So, in honor of being alive, I am making a list of things I want to LIVE, EXPERIENCE and BE in 2012. I feel that the coming year will bring great blessings for our family. I sense healing, happiness, adventure, new beginnings, creative ventures, new friendships, service, growth and - hopefully - new additions.

So as I anticipate the celebrations of tomorrow, I will set some time aside to quietly sit and contemplate what I want to do, be, and become. In essence, what difference I will make in the world. Most of all, my own.

Every breath is a gift. And I will not waste one.

That is my Birthday Wish.

The Flower Bush

So, our extended weekend away was really quite wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered.

Here's a summary of our favorite things:

• The girls pampered ourselves with an afternoon of mani/pedis.
• We laughed as we splashed and played at the Aquatic Center.
• We cuddled up on a FABULOUSLY comfy sectional for family naps everyday.
• We thoroughly enjoyed Tuacahn's production of "Little Mermaid" (seriously love it).
• We made many memories at Snow Canyon hiking and playing trucks in the "big dirts" (aka Sand Dunes).
• And we savored creamy frozen frozen custard at one of our favorite shops. Delish.

All in all, the rest, relaxation, and recreation refueled and refreshed our souls. It. Was. Divine.

While playing in the "dirts" Saturday afternoon, I was taught a lesson by The Great Teacher. As I watched my children play in the sand with their adoring Daddy, my heart ached. I just. felt. empty. We weren't complete! Someone was missing! Ashton wasn't supposed to be playing cars by himself. Granted David and I were by his side but - let's face it - a parent is just NOT a brother. Period.

Anyhoo, as my kids were building sandcastles and I circled around snapping pictures, I literally stumbled upon this Flower Bush. Small, tender and budding yellow, it was quite the surprise juxaposed against the red desert sand. Where did it come from? How did it get there? How did it sustain life? It was quite the mystery.

And yet there it was, standing tall, acting as reminder of Life amid the toughest conditions. As beautiful as the red rocky landscape was, the contrast of the yellow made it all the more breathtaking.

Curious.

I thought about our Sunshine Boy. I remembered all the bright, sweet, joyful times that we shared. I remembered all the laughs, giggles, snuggles and songs.

And then I thought about the last 9 months. The Desert of our lives.

We have been nourished by the rain. We have learned to build sandcastles in the most arid conditions. And - through it all - our Little Flower Bush has stood by, looking all the more beautiful against the harshness of the conditions. How grateful we are for his immortality.

And so I will remember. I will rememeber all the "fun things" but - above all - I will remember the dramatic beauty of the desert. I will remember playing in the sand. And I will remember the sweet, unexpected Flower Bush that brought so much meaning on a tender afternoon.

Tender Mercies. Tender mercies.

Just Singin' in the Rain

Sunday was a beautiful day. The weather was hot and muggy. But then - in the middle of the day - a sudden rainstorm. The raindrops and puddles seemed to call out to my kids to come and splash.

And so they did.

Out they went - donning their Sunday clothes - running through the streets and puddles while the rain fell on their faces. They danced, they sang and they held hands, spinning around in circles. It. Was. Magical.

On days such as these, I am reminded of all the Joy there still is to experience in Life. Yes, we have experienced loss and Yes, the longing for our sweet Bennett will never go away. But I have three precious children here with me. Three children to laugh with, play with, cuddle, caress and sing lullabies to. What a Gift that is.

And somehow, on days such as this, it is almost like I can see a little toe head boy giggling and galloping behind his siblings.

I wouldn't be surprised. I wouldn't be surprised.

Best. Day. Ever.

Spools of Yarn and Body Slams. That's what good weekends are made of.

I know. Explain.

So, last week, I spent oodles of time preparing for Easter, trying to make it tender, comforting and meaningful despite our missing Bennett ever so much this week. I went shopping in search of just the right gifts, assembled perfectly balanced (in fun and meaning) baskets and scheduled activities all weekend that would bring a smile to all our faces. And what did my kids like most? Totally the unexpected.

It all started Saturday afternoon when - during quiet time - David and I took spools of yarn and made an obstacle course for each child, beginning at their beds. When they awoke, one at a time, each child went in search for their Easter basket, following their designated yarn as a guide. They loved the hunting and finding and were thoroughly thrilled upon finding their treasures. What surprised me was that they thought the spool of yarn was part of the gift and it quickly became their most prized possession. Soon Emma and Grace were creating Rapunzel wigs with their yarn and - standing on our grand staircase - calling out to their father to come and rescue them (maybe they've watched Tangled one too many times). Then Ashton tied the yarn to his monster trucks and started towing yarn remnants around the house like a tow truck. The creativity continued the following day when the girls decided to tuck their spools of yarn into their scripture bags and take it to church. In the middle of sacrament meeting, out came the yarn and the jewelry making began. In an hour, every one of us had multiple bracelets, rings and necklaces made of knotted yarn. They were so proud of their creations.

The Body Slamming Event began Saturday evening. After a day full of fun, we ended the evening with the kids eating some of their Easter candy while we watched a family flick. Out of no where, spontaneous body slamming began. First Ashton. Then Grace. And finally Emma. David and I were - of course - on the bottom, taking the brunt of every slam while the kids were giggling, whooping and hollering for more. As Gracelyn was jumping at the bottom of our bed, prepping for her next slam, she shouted, "THIS IS THE BEST. DAY. EVER!!!!"

It returned for a repeat performance Sunday evening. And - unfortunately for Mom and Dad - I don't see it going away soon.

Now isn't this interesting. I had spent all this time working out the details only to find that the most memorable and enjoyable activities were the ones that occurred unplanned and spontaneously. Isn't that Life, though? They say Life occurs when you've made other plans. Perhaps memories are like that, as well.

I need to live more in the moment, appreciating the littlest of things, and not be so distracted and focused on the grand ones. Because - more often than not - they really don't matter. And they are not what we remember most.

So here's to a new day. A day full of surprises, challenges, laughter and rewards just waiting to be discovered. And here's to making it the Best. Day. Ever.

Wednesday is . . .

• Garbage day
• Laundry day
• Grocery day
• Diet Dr. Pepper with Lemon day
• And a day full of storybooks, songs, animal crackers, cars and cuddles

Here's one of our favorites. Enjoy!

We're Back

We're back after taking a week

vacation in lovely San Diego. This afternoon we exchanged 70 degree weather for snow. Uhhh . . . what were we thinking?

It is good to be back, though. There really is no place like home. This week, I will share some of our favorite memories made as a family of five. Some were sweet, some were tender and some just brought tears to our eyes. But all together, it was a wonderful trip. We feel blessed to be able to get away and make some wonderful new memories. We need to fill our canteens as much as possible right now.

Hope you all had a great week! Cross your fingers that spring will be around the corner!

See you on Monday . . . xoxoxo

Sweet Dreams

Last night, I had a dream. A vivid dream. A dream of Bennett.

Bennett was back in my arms. I knew he had passed away but he had miraculously returned and I - appreciating him more than ever - held him closer and kissed him more than ever before (and THAT is saying A LOT). Things were better than ever and everything was back to normal.

Except for one thing. He didn't have any arms.

In the dream, I remember trying to give Bennett a dum dum sucker (one of his favorite treats) but not knowing whether to just put it in his mouth or hold it for him. This was a whole new challenge.

But I was eager to take on this challenge. Willingly and happily. Having him - in any form or condition - was better than not having him at all. I was grateful to hold him in my arms and cuddle him all the more. My heart felt whole once more and all was well in the world.

Since I awoke this morning, I've been thinking about (what was unfortunately just) my dream last night. Though it was a bit strange in hindsight, it seemed quite realistic at the time (aren't all dreams like that?). Though I don't believe ALL dreams have meaning, I believe that this one held particular significance for me.

Since his birth, Bennett has touched many with his amazingly loving, gentle and generous spirit. I remember one of my dearest friends coming to see him when he was only a few months old. When she held him for the first time, she began crying. "He is so special!" she said. "I can just feel the strength of his spirit as I look at him!" I knew this and his father had felt it as well. We knew this was an incredible human being with an amazing mission ahead but it was quite surreal to hear it from someone who had no previous experience with him. He was THAT powerful.

As Bennett's Mother, I would often wonder what the Lord had in mind for this little boy. What would he bring to the world? What was his mission? And what could I do to prepare him for his journey? I felt humbled and honored to be called to the task and to be a part of his precious life.

Enter January 22, 2011. Bennett suddenly passed away to the stunned amazement of us all. It was as if the air was completely knocked out of our lungs. What? When? How? It just didn't make sense! And to this day - almost three months later - we don't have a lot of answers. A lot of physical answers, that is. And I don't know if we ever will.

But this is what we are finding out. Bennett did have a mission. Both here and on the other side. And he fulfilled it here and is continuing to fill it there. But there is a part of his mission that continues to involve us, his loved ones that - for a time - have been left behind. We have been called to carry on his legacy and tell his story. His is a story of Love. His is a story of Light. And His is a story of Laughter. Now we are here to write the remaining chapters.

What will they be? Will they be filled with Hope, Faith, Gratitude and Joy? Or will they tainted tales of Bitterness, Anger and Resentment? Right now, we are his hands. We are here to tell the story he cannot tell. And we are hear to spread the message his sweet lips will not utter in this life.

But tell it we will. And we will not stop until everyone knows our story of Hope, understands our reason for Joy and is comforted with the news that Death is NOT the end. We WILL see our sweet children again. No goodbyes, just see you later's. That's our motto. And Later won't come soon enough.

So tonight, I recommit to telling our Sweet Bennett story once more. I have not chosen this path. It was chosen for me. And I feel called to share this message.

And share it I will.

I will be Bennett's hands and I will share our sweet story of Faith, Hope and Joy despite heartache, despite loss and in the face of profound grief and sorrow. And we will prevail. We will. And as a team, we will do what we need to do to be together again. Cause there ain't nothin' better than that.

Time for bed. 'Nigh 'nigh (as Bennett would say). And Sweet Dreams.

Spring Break

Spring Break is here and we could not be more ready for it. We have been hangin' on, puttin' one foot in front of the other, waiting for some rest and reprieve from the rigors of life. So this week long spring break is just what the doctor ordered. We will be playing, laughing, eating, sunbathing, swimming and doing all-things frolicky and fun. What a blessing. What a blessing.

In other news, wasn't General Conference fantastic!?! Holy cow. I couldn't believe how many addresses were tailored to our family. I am so grateful that inspired leaders got the memo on what our family needed ;0) Some of my favorites were from Jean A. Stevens and Richard G. Scott. Wow, could we relate. What a teacher Adversity can be.

My goals for today? Hold hands as much as possible, Wink at my sweetheart, Laugh even more, Snuggle each one of my babes and tell them why they are such an important part of our family and Capture as many of these moments as possible with a camera. I have learned (the hard way) of the importance of capturing life's images. They may be all you've got to remember the most tender everyday moments in your life.

Have a fabulous day, friends! xoxoxo

Weekend of Inspiration

When David and I were dating, I told him that he better be good to me because I was one of my Heavenly Father's "favorite girls." I hope everyone feels this way. As I have gotten older, I continue to feel His love and awareness through all the events of Life. I am a lucky girl.

This week was hard. Super hard. And I don't see the feelings we are feeling going away anytime soon. That said, Heaven knew this and has showered many blessings on me this weekend.

• Last night, David and I went with some of our dearest friends to see the musical "A Tale of Two Cities." Though a huge fan of Dickens, I was unfamiliar with the storyline of this particular show. HOOOOLY cow! What an amazingly moving story with complex twists and turns. In many ways, it mirrored "Les Mis" with themes of the French Revolution, loss, darkness, light, tragedy, hope, forgiveness, heartache, sacrifice and redemption. It was amazing. I must say - being unfamiliar with the storyline - that I was a bit unprepared for the small boy that was run over and killed by an Aristocrat carriage. Seeing his lifeless body carried by his father across the stage and put in a casket was a bit much for me (given our recent experiences). It unfortunately hit a little too close to home. But I am choosing to remember the themes of Hope, Light, Sacrifice and Redemption. It was truly a well done production. Bravo.
• This weekend, we have the privilege of hearing inspirational and faith promoting thoughts from inspired leaders. As a Mormon, we have a religious gathering broadcast around the world called General Conference. Twice a year (April/October), our leaders teach us principles of Faith, Hope, Forgiveness, Charity and Love. It is truly "living water" for this parched mommy's soul. I am looking forward to General Conference now more than ever. I so need to feel the Healing and Peace that comes only from a Divine source. I will be tuning in all weekend and praying to be in tune to the messages my Loving Heavenly Father will send me. (click here to join me)
• As my children begin their spring break, we have planned a week of family fun and memory making. I can't wait to let go of some of the cares of the world and turn our focus to the simple things: Laughing, Running, Playing, Tickling, Swimming, Eating and Loving together. We so need this time to replenish our souls. What a blessing.

Wishing you an inspiring weekend as well, sweet friends. xoxoxo

My First and Best Friend

This is my sister, Katie. But I call her Kates, Hakuna McKata, Sugarlips or Hot Mama. I have known her for as long as I can remember (thirty two years, to be exact). We have experienced many of life's experiences together. From Joy School to violin lessons, dance to singing lessons, the infamous Family Bluegrass Band (oh, the drama and memories) and even shared our college experiences together at two different colleges on opposing coasts. We share many of the same talents and interests. And in many ways, our lives have been quite parallel. But Life has seen fit to introduce heartaches that we would have never imagined as young girls playing Barbies. Indeed, we are both living our "hardest things."

What do I love about Kates? Once she is your friend, she is your friend for life. She is as loyal as they come. She is all about quality vs. quantity. And she invests in those she loves. She always inspires me on my own path of becoming because of her own quest for progression. Indeed, to know her is to love her.

Why am I writing about my beautiful sister? Because along this path of Loss, there are many that come and go. But few are there for the long haul. When others seem to move on with their lives and forget about the gaping hole in your heart, those few are there to cry with you, let you rant and rave, be your comic relief or meet a need you didn't even know you had. These type of friends are gold.

They do not say, "if you need anything let me know." They just do something. Anything. And completely unsolicited. And somehow, it's always just what you need in the moment you need it most. You can be completely real with them and they can handle whatever emotion you have to share. Your relationship is THAT strong. They are your greatest advocate, your kindest critic, your shoulder to cry on and your partner in crime. Summed up, they are IT. In the words of our little Bennett (Katie's "boyfriend"): "[THEY] ROCK!!!"

I am grateful to have so many incredible people in my life. Indeed, I dare not make a "favorite list" because I am afraid I'd miss someone that means oh-so-much to me. That said, it would be hard to find someone that shares the history and experiences that Kates and I share. She is irreplaceable. And I pray that the Good Lord allows us to share the Heartaches and Joys of Life together. I cannot imagine my life without her. Period.

So, here's to you, Dear Sister and Friend. Thank you for all your love and support throughout ALL my life but especially the last 2.5 months. I couldn't do it without you.

Love you most, Sweet Sister Friend -

Little Miss Sassypants

Angel Lullaby

Like many, our family has developed a night time ritual. After family prayer, David typically reads to the girls (they are finishing the "Chronicles of Narnia" series) and tucks them in bed while I take care of the boys bedtime routine. Most of the time, that involves a story or two (mostly of the car variety) while cuddling. It also ALWAYS involves a song. For Bennett, it was "His Song" and with Ashton, it typically was "The Wheels On The Bus" (not the song that I would choose but - hey - it should be HIS choice, right?).

After Bennett's passing, our family was reeling with the consequences of our "new reality". Though all of my child are grieving differently, Ashton has had the most difficult time. I think that is partly due to his age (3), the fact that he and Bennett spent every moment of their lives together and that they are only 16 months apart. He doesn't know what life is like WITHOUT his brother. Thus the dramatic adjustment.

Immediately following Bennett's passing, Ashton would not enter their room. Not to play, not to nap, not to sleep. After a few weeks of having him sleep with David and I, we knew that this could not continue. NO ONE was getting any rest!!! So out with the old, in with the new. As the crib and toddler bed came down, a new twin bed went up. As the heavy navy comforters were packed away, fresh tailored bedding was introduced. And as Bennett's clothes were put in storage bins and his favorite things were lovingly laid in a hope chest, the car table was moved into the room for Ashton's entertainment. Though difficult, it was therapeutic for all to give the room a fresh new look. It helps us remember the good memories and forget the more traumatic ones. That's a blessing.

As we started creating our new routine, we wanted to balance old traditions with new ones that would include Bennett in a new way in our family. Here's what we came up with:

• We still call our family to prayer with the song that would bring Bennett running and dancing to the ottoman. And - I am glad to say - we often remember his dances with smooth moves of our own. Smiling and laughing is always a good thing.


• After we say our family prayer in the morning and evening, we immediately follow our "Amen" with blowing a kiss to Heaven, a token of our love for Bennett. And I believe he catches every one.


• We also have continued to follow our family prayer with our family cheer, something that Bennett looked forward to every day. He loved feeling like part of "the team."

As time passed and Ashton got used to his "new room", we started creating a new bedtime routine, as well. I started singing him a song that has become his favorite while cuddling in bed at night. It is fittingly entitled "Angel Lullaby" (click title to hear song):

You came from a land where all is light
to a world half day and a world half night.
To guide you by day, you have my love,
To guard you by night, your friends above.

(Chorus)
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your [Bennett Friend].
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your [Bennett Friend].

There's one stands softly by your bed
and another sits close with a hand on your head.
There's one at the window watching for the dawn,
and one waits to wake you when the night is gone.

Every night when I sing this lullaby to Ashton, he looks around the room and up at the ceiling. I pray he is able to feel the presence of his little buddy and that - at that tender time - he is able to feel a special outpouring of our Heavenly Father's Love. While Bennett is not with us for a time, he will be part of our family unit forever. And just because we cannot see him does not mean that he is still not actively involved in our family's events and activities. Is it the same as having him here? No way. But is this new arrangement part of Heavenly Father's plan for our family? We believe so. And as we cling to those beliefs and rely on a Loving Father who IS aware of us and blesses us with His Love and Mercy every day, we find the Hope, Strength and Faith to move forward. It doesn't get better than that.

And so tonight, I'll hold the little boy I have on Earth and sing him our "new song", praying that his brother is somehow able to listen in on this Mommy's lullaby. And that - for at least a few moments - it will be like he's in my arms again.

Good Night, my Angel Boy. Good night.

Grieving Can Be Messy

Shortly after Bennett's passing, our 3-year-old Ashton replaced his playtime with his brother with playing with his cars in my plants. Though it wouldn't have been MY first choice of "therapy", it has worked. He finds joy in getting his hands dirty and - though it can cause a mess on my carpet and couch - it is worth the clean up for now.

Bennett's passing has been our family's first experience dealing of profound loss. In 2008, my husband lost a brother to cancer and my grandfather passed away, but both situations we could see coming from a distance. In their cases, Death was a friend, releasing them from the prisons of their sick and weakened bodies. Yes, we missed them and Yes, no one will take their place but we acknowledged that our prayers were answered. They were no longer in pain and they felt peace.

Bennett's passing was of a different variety. He was 100% healthy - rarely getting sick - and then was gone. No labored breathing, no lethargicness, no discoloration, no incoherent behavior. And in oh-so-many ways, that was a blessing. We had him 100% for 19 3/4 months. Every. Single. Second. And yet, his death side swiped us in a way I can't even put into words. To say it rocked our world would be the understatement of the century. And yet miraculously, it has not made me question my faith. Not for a minute. But it HAS brought up questions regarding my faith and our family's healing. What more can I do to bring a feeling of Peace in our Home? What changes do I need to make in my life to be worthy of seeing Bennett again? How can I best meet the needs of my children who - in their own ways - are reeling from the loss of their brother? When do I let things slide and when do I follow up with natural consequences when my children are acting out? So many questions, still finding answers.

What I HAVE found is that grieving can be messy. It doesn't follow a timeline and it happens differently with everyone. While my toddler has struggled from the get go and has digressed in many ways, my older girls have been more resilient and open with their grief. And yet, in the last week, there have been changes in one child that I don't know how to handle. I am learning that Grief is not a destination but a road. A long road that we will continue to walk for the rest of our lives. Our family needs to find constructive and healthy ways to deal with these big feelings we are feeling. Feelings that - at times - seem bigger than ourselves. And yet, as we learn how to deal with them appropriately, we can progress down our pathway of healing.

I have also learned that Grief and Mourning are work. Hard work. And can be very exhausting. While wading through its strong current, we have found it important so simplify our lives in any way possible. Taking a few months off from a church responsibility, postponing dance lessons until this summer or fall, canceling harp lessons for a time, picking our social situations carefully and not letting ourselves feel obligated or pressured to do anything. Our focus is Healing. End of sentence.

However, that can be easier said than done. Many people give you a month or so to grieve and then - after a time - expect you to be 100% back. "Are you feeling better now?" some have asked. "Do you feel like you are over it?" Over it? How can I be OVER it? Do you EVER get over people you love? Do you outgrow your need or your love for your children? NO! We are learning how to go forward. How to continue to find Joy, Happiness and Laughter without Bennett. And - at times - that is hard. Really hard. In fact, as time has passed, the reality of our sitution is beginning to sink in. This IS real. This IS our new life. And this ISN'T going away.

Breathe.

And yet, he IS with us. We feel him. No, it's not the same as holding his sweet little body in our arms or seeing him shuffle across the kitchen floor with the broom, trying to sweep it for Mommy. But - for now - it will have to do. And we're holding on to the promise of eternal families to fulfill the rest.

So, for now, we'll laugh, we'll cry, we'll remember, we'll play, we'll talk, we'll walk, we'll cuddle, we'll find the help we need and we'll dream of the day when we'll all be reunited again, knowing that it WILL happen. It will.

And Healing will come with time. Messy or not.

Construction Zone

We are living in a Construction Zone right now. The past week, our kitchen cabinets have been refinished (a beautiful ivory with clean glaze in the ridges) and - upon finishing the cabinets this morning - the wood floors will be refinished the next 3 days. And did I mention there is a jackhammer chipping away at my front steps? Yes. It's a wonderful, dusty mess.

But I have a vision. Yes, I do. And hopefully it will lead to a quick sale in 2
weeks (we already have a showing scheduled and we're not even on the market!).

All this dust, noise and chaos reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from C.S. Lewis:

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."
(C.S. Lewis)

I've loved that quote for years. That analogy is so fitting to how our Heavenly Father works in our lives. We think we're chuggin' along, doing pretty well on our own. And THEN He decides to tear down a wall and start building a wing! "No, thank you!" you want to say. "I was doing just fine!" But He - the Grand Architect of all - has a vision greater than anything our feeble, limited minds can imagine. He is building a Home that is eternal. Not one that can be leveled by fires, tsunamis or earthquakes. But one that we'll take with us. One of the ONLY things we can take with us when we pass on . . . Our House of Character, Integrity and Devotion to God.

And so, our family is TRULY in "construction mode" right now. Yes, that of the physical variety but also that of the spiritual sort, as well. The Lord is chiseling away at our souls. And we believe that - in the end - the Pain, Hurt and Loss will all lead to a Masterpiece by the Great Master Himself.

We just have to be willing.

And so we'll draw pictures in the dust, we'll take bets on how many chunks of cement they remove from our yard and we'll turn the music up a bit louder to cover the sounds of the jackhammer. And through it all, we'll have faith in the end product 'cause it's all gonna be worth it.

It's all gonna be worth it.

Let the Sun Shine In

In the summer of 2000, I had the fortune of studying in Israel for the summer. It was a life changing experience. I could write an entire book about the changes that took place within the chambers of my heart during my months in Israel, Egypt and Jordan. But - for now - a fun and quirky memory will have to suffice.

Summers in the said near eastern countries are stifling, dry and treacherous. They are surely not for the faint of heart. And - in the heat of the desert - we would spend hours on buses taking us from one dry and sandy location to another. To pass the time away, me and my BYU-Jeru buddies would conjure up various activities/games to pass the time away. One of them was singing songs together. One of our favorites became a song that my dear friend Aimee - a ray of Light herself - taught us. It was an expanded version of "You Are My Sunshine" but funked up a bit. I loved it and it soon became our favorite "go to" round song. The lyrics are as follows:

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away.

You are my ever lovin' baby

You are my everything

You make me oh so very happy

When skies are gray, and by the way

You'll never know how much I love you

How much I need you when you're gone

Please don't take my Sunshine away.

So let the sunshine in

Face it with a grin

Smilers never lose

And frowners never win

So let the sun shine in

Face it with a grin

Open up your heart

And let the sun shine in.

Fast forward a decade. I am married, have four children of my own and have experienced MANY adventures since my summer in Jerusalem. But the upbeat tune of yesteryear has been passed down to my sweet children and has become one of our favorite sing along songs. In particular, it has become an endearing tune sung specifically to my toddler - Bennett - whom we call our "Sunshine Boy." Wherever he goes there is Love, Light and Laughter. He is literally Sunshine personified. What a Gift.

Then the unexpected occurs. Amid our blue skies of promise bursting with rays of warmth and light, we experience a turbulent storm. On January 22, 2011, we awoke to learn that our Sweet Sunshine Boy had passed away in his sleep. We were dumbfounded, shocked, heartbroken and numb. How could this be? How could we live our lives without him? How could we go on?

And yet, in the eye of the storm, we experienced a Peace that surpassed ALL understanding. Did we know WHY Bennett passed away? No. Did we know HOW he passed away? Negative. But - in our darkest hours - we DID feel lifted in a way one can only understand if they have experienced it themselves. We knew a loving, tender Father in Heaven was aware of us and that we were not alone. We have felt of his Love and have been warmed by His Light. And it gives us the strength to continue to put one foot in front of the other.

And so, our story continues. We are new on this path but we are on a journey of healing as we strive to Love, Laugh, Learn and Live Amid Life's Storms. Each moment brings with it varied emotions, but as we let each feeling come and go like a passing storm front, somehow it ebbs and flows more gently. And with each ache, we are reminded of how much we adored and cherished each day of his 20 short months here on earth. And we cling to the promise of being with Bennett again. Forever.

So come with me. You may/may not have "lost" a child, but perhaps you've experienced heartache, disappointment and the loss of a dream. In this way, we are the same. Though everyone grieves differently, there are many similarities in the human experience. And if we take this rocky road together - hand in hand - we may not only find companionship, but we will be reminded that we are not alone. Many have walked this path before and many more will follow. The purpose? It is in the muddiest of times that we discover what we are made of and that - even IF we are living our worst case scenerio - we can come out standing, breathing and stronger than ever before. And THAT is the miracle.

So, though I have since learned that not all the words to my beloved "Sunshine" song are accurate ("smilers never lose and frowners never win"), I do celebrate the phrase that has now become one of my mantras:

So let the sun shine in

Face it with a grin . . .

Open up your heart

And let the Sunshine in.

And so I'm opening up my heart with the hopes that - in doing so - healing will come to me, my family and someone else who is in need. And that - maybe as I help others - the Lord will allow me to feel a little more of my SONshine with me.

Welcome, friends. Welcome.