When pain and joy collide

Dear Tony,

Merry Christmas! Sitting here with all the lights off, presents nestled under the tree, children sleeping, I look at our Christmas tree with its quiet white lights. The snow is gently falling outside and all the world seems to be sleeping.

Our second Christmas without you seems like the first. Last year you were gone just a few weeks before the holiday and everything was a blur for awhile. But this year is different. It’s our sweet baby Caleb’s first Christmas yet you aren’t here to share it with us... again. It’s strange how life now feels normal by myself, without you by my side experiencing it all together. Sometimes I really hate that but I know that this is the way things are now and I’m finally at a place where I know it’s okay.

I miss you terribly still. Missing all the little things about you hurts but now there is something new. The other day we were listening to music and I jokingly sang in an operatic voice- just as you did all the time to the kids. Laughing at myself, I asked our oldest kids if I sounded like how you did when you would joke around but they couldn’t remember that about you anymore. A lot of their own memories of you are fading and I am trying to keep those memories alive the best I can. Remember how I promised you I wouldn’t let the kids forget you when we were driving in the car that one chilly day in April? That promise will never be broken, even when a lot of their memories are going to be the memories of stories I tell them.

This Christmas season there have been so so many people who have helped keep that promise to you. One of your talented students made some amazing and absolutely unique memory boxes for the kids and me, just like you wanted. A loving friend spent a lot of time sewing blankets out of your shirts for  the kids to open tomorrow morning— a present to them, from you, just like you wanted. Another former student anonymously spent the past 12 days delivering gifts and a cute nativity set to help remind us about Christ and His joyous birth, just like you always reminded us. So many people have blessed our family with many different types of service to help our family during this Christmas season, and just as you feel, my words fall short of the gratitude I feel in my heart.

The joy of the season runs strong in our home— our kids are sure to make it so!— and this year I’ve felt a deeper connection to how my Savior’s love really works in my life. I still feel such embedded loss and sorrow that you are not here, and although I’ve tried several ways to “remedy” my heart’s pain, I have only found one solution. The pain can’t be taken away but joy can reside right in my heart at the same time. Only this has helped me find peace, and I celebrate the birth of Jesus in a new light this year: grateful that He continues to let me ache for you but that He also helps me to choose joy in my life. It’s a strange but beautiful collision, one that will slowly build a perfect heart one day. And that is what I give to you this Christmas, Tony: a renewed desire to allow myself to feel pain and let myself be happy and have joy as well as our family moves forward together.

I love you, and I hope you get to see the beaming faces of our kids tomorrow morning and hear their squeals as they enjoy a beautiful and joyous Christmas Day.
Love always,
Erica

365 days/ How life has changed

As I lay on my couch tonight staring at our glowing Christmas tree in the dark, I listened to this rendition of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” about half a dozen times (it is one of Tony’s absolute favorites). All my kids tucked safely in bed and with the house quiet, I finally made some time for some deep reflection.

This weekend marked one year since Tony died. We have made it through a full year of “firsts” and now are beginning a journey that really feels like Tony is gone. This will be our second Christmas without him, and all the day to day happenings and even holidays feel different; we really have found a “new normal.” It is so much of a bittersweet emotion: I hate that I know I will never have the past again yet it is good that we are able to continue pushing forward to find a life that will bring us happiness, even without Tony here. Still, one day does not go by that I don’t think of Tony several times. Most of the time I can reflect with a smile but there are days when the pain is still intense. I’ve grown accustomed to feeling this way so that it is now “tolerable.” I imagine it will be a part of my character for the rest of my life.

365 days seems like such a short time period. Looking back, the time has gone by quickly and there has been so much change. Yet even with time passing, it feels as if its been a decade since I last curled up next to Tony, clenching his hand while he took his last breaths. He is so much a part of me and always will remain so, but I find myself forgetting what it felt like to have him here, watching him flourish as a father, as a husband, as a brother and son, as a friend, as a teacher. I hold all my memories of him close to my heart, and I cannot wait for the day when we are together, so that my heart will feel whole again.

365 days also has brought on a lot of change. Widowhood has affected every aspect of my life. There have been obvious hard changes such as being a single parent, changing social circles, making decisions alone, and the plain loneliness that comes at night. But there have also been good changes as well. They are harder to see but when I stop and reflect quietly, they are easier to be found. Above all, I have learned to rely on my Savior, who truly is the only one who can understand and feel my pain. I have learned that He will never abandon me even when the day seems dark and dreary. I have learned in more depth my strengths and weaknesses as a mother, which has allowed me to be honest and forgiving of myself. I have learned that it is not weak to ask for and accept help after I have done everything that I can. I have learned that I need to slow down, to be still and to listen. These lessons will continue to teach me as I strive to improve upon each one.

The most unexpected lesson I have learned is that I now ache in a whole new way when other people experience pain. This has been perhaps one of the best blessings yet hardest trial that has coincided with becoming a widow. Perhaps since I have been pretty open about my experiences this past year, it has opened doors for others to confide in me about their struggles in life. Learning of others’ challenges has opened my eyes and heart to a new level. This has been a blessing because I feel that I am feeling and changing in a way that my Heavenly Father wants me to, yet it is also very difficult to feel so deeply and ache when someone I love is hurting. At night I think about all the challenges people I care about are going through and all I want is to take their pain away, just as I wish my pain could be taken away. My fault in all of this is that I never know how to express my empathy and concern in a way that will be known as sincere. I am still trying to stretch and grow so that I can be our Savior’s arms and comfort others as Christ does. I sure have a lot of work to do.

Lastly, I have learned that there is so much good. My family and I are surrounded by wonderful people who are happy and willing to “bear one another’s burdens” and “mourn with those who stand in need of comfort.” We have truly been blessed during the hardest year our family has experienced. Thank you to all of you who continue to lift me up and care. I truly love you all and aspire to show kindness to others as you have shown kindness to my kids and me. You are truly my examples and the angels that surround my family.

The answer to problems

Just a few of my favorite miracles in my life.

I love when they all pile into my bed in the morning and giggle about anything silly.
*Bonus points for finding where I’m hiding! ;)

The name of this blog is “Moments and Miracles.” When I first began blogging as a way of updating our friends and family about Tony’s health, I didn’t want this space to be full of sorrow and emptiness. While those emotions have a place and purpose here as this is real life and life is full with true raw emotion, I wanted to share with those I love all the moments in this journey where I have seen miracles. Over the past couple of years, I hope that you all have noticed all these beautiful blessings that have been added to life despite such a terrible loss.

I miss Tony so, so much. This past year took me on a journey in discovering a lot about myself, as I’ve been able to let my grief rush into and take residence in my heart. At first this nasty grief had a strong grip on me, making me a puppet in its awful show. It hurt. A lot. Every single moment of every day. I struggled with wondering why this happened to my little family and myself. Had I not been faithful enough? Should I had prayed with more intent? Was I not selfless enough in caring for Tony? What did I do wrong?

Those questions tore me apart on some lonely nights as I sobbed into my pillow. I didn’t get anywhere while focusing on them, they just added even more pain to my sorrow. Then I had a quiet realization that I was asking all the wrong questions instead of the one right question:

Why not me?

Why shouldn’t this had happened to us? What was so special about Tony and my family that we should have been exempt from deep heartache and moments of despair? I had been looking at the situation in the wrong light. Who was I to think I was above this suffering?

As soon as I acknowledged that I do not “deserve” anything, I started to see all these miracles and moments I was blessed with. Instead of looking at my life as a list of “have nots,” the list of all the glorious beauty my family has seen kept growing longer and longer. The real sense of gratitude came from knowing and feeling that God loves me and that He has provided a Savior so that I can be beautiful and glorified like Him one day. 

That is it. We don’t need to cling to endless lists of “I’m thankful for....” (although they are great and have their place) but rather need to see how blessed we are to be sons and daughters of God. And to know that is enough for us to feel deep gratitude. We need to know and feel this so that if everything we loved and held dear was taken from our lives, could we still find that foundation to be thankful?

And if we truly learn humility, what problem can stand in our way?

Humility will grow the best beauty in our hearts and souls. We will learn to love others in a deeper level. We will want to connect more intimately so that we may share in each others burdens. We will learn to be more patient, less quick to judge, and more accepting of others. Ultimately we will feel burning in our hearts pure compassion for everyone around us. Humility can answer whatever problems we all face in our individual lives, even the loss of those we love so dearly. I know that because God loves my family that we will be made whole again. And in the meantime, God has and will continue to bless us all as we keep moving forward and changing so that we can learn to truly love those around us. And that is the most beautiful miracle of all.

Take a piece of my heart

Happy Halloween!

Most mornings I turn on fun music while my kids are getting ready for school. It helps get everyone in a happy mood and gets them up and moving for the day. After my oldest three went off to school, Sophie (who is five), changed the music to a song I had never heard. Here are the lyrics:

“I promise that one day I'll be around

I'll keep you safe
I'll keep you sound

Right now it's pretty crazy
And I don't know how to stop
Or slow it down

I know there are some things we need to talk about
And I can't stay
Just let me hold you for a little longer now

Take a piece of my heart
And make it all your own
So when we are apart
You'll never be alone”

Already in a bit of a fragile state from beginning the holiday season with Halloween yesterday (one of Tony’s favorite holidays), my heart began pumping harder and harder like it was trying to break
out. When Tony died, I really do feel that half my heart went with him, and in a few small moments I have felt him say to me that I am never alone. I’m thankful for thoughts through letters and precious memories from Tony that I do know he loves me. What I now find harder and harder as time goes by is that I want to be able to show my love to him still.

That feeling of a pounding heart occurs often as it aches to connect with Tony again. How I wish I could still show him all this love compounding in my heart. I wish I could hold him, tell him my thoughts, serve him, or even give him a gift. I once heard that the hardest part of grief in any relationship is the inability to show them your love for them anymore. Because though he is gone, I will always continue loving him, with a love that just grows deeper as time passes. Nothing will change that regardless where life takes me in the next several decades. I can’t imagine how much that ache will hurt as each year passes.

Talking with a friend this morning, I did realize the one remedy for my exploding heart. I may not be able to physically show my love to Tony but I can use all this love building up in my chest to love others. I can love my children more deeply and try even harder to be a better mother. I can be there for my family and friends who I love dearly and be a better listener and show more compassionate. I can even make better efforts to cultivate new friendships and to be even more
 kind to strangers. I’m sure all of this is how I can still show Tony my love. And I’m sure that Heavenly Father knows this is the best way for me to grow and to continue to find ways to be happy in this life.

With the holidays upon us, I am going to make a more conscious effort to find joy in the journey. Tony has been gone almost eleven months now, although it has felt like I lost a good part of him over two years ago. God won’t take this ache from me and I know there is no going back to my life with Tony. But if I ask humbly, He will help me to carry my burdens of grief day after day and allow for beauty to grow in my heartache. Only through Him can we be transformed into something more beautiful and loving than we can imagine. Thank you to all of you who are my examples and my cheerleaders. And thank you for always letting me share my intimate feelings with you so that I can heal and grow. So, please take a piece of my heart with you.

Tender Mercies

When Tony taught his seminary students, he’d often open his class by inviting them to share their “tender mercies” they had seen during that week. Occasionally I’d visit a class or two of his and get to observe the students and hear their tender mercies they recognized from their week.

I was drawn to Tony while we were dating because of his happy countenance. It was contagious! Despite whatever difficult thing had happened on occasions, Tony always acknowledged its difficulty and then put a positive spin on it by stating the tender mercy in it all. Those of you who know Tony remember asking how he was and his replies of, “I’m fantastic!” EVERY SINGLE TIME. I’d even tease him about his enthusiasm sometimes because I just found it so cute. How could I not smile when hearing “fantastic” about a thousand times a day? :)

This past week I’ve been doing some small studying on gratitude with some good friends of mine. As I glanced over my notes I’ve made throughout the week, I couldn’t help but feel that I should share, just as Tony gently encouraged his students to express their gratitude by sharing their tender mercies from God with their classmates and friends.

Here are the ways in which we can express our gratitude to God:
-through prayer or songs of praise
-by commemorating meaningful holidays (such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, or whichever holidays according to your faith)
-repenting of our sins and shortcomings
-by showing love toward others in our good works

Ways in how we can show appreciation to those around us:
-sincerely telling them in person, in a message, or by a hug
-finding ways to serve them in return
-paying it forward by helping others in immediate need
-being a real friend by opening up about your life and listening intently to them about their joys and struggles

Earlier today I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as I put my kids to bed and wished Tony was waiting for me to come and cuddle and have our nightly talks together. I miss talking to him about anything and everything with no judgement, and feeling his sincere concern and love for me. I thought about how this feeling will never fully fade from my life, that I will always long to be near him and hear his voice and hold his hand that fits perfectly within mine. How can I ease my ache when this happens? I can look for the tender mercies that I have now, and continue to look forward with happiness so that when I am asked how I am doing, I will honestly be able to reply, “I’m fantastic!”

So, to all my friends reading this, I want you to know a few of the numerous tender mercies I have in my life presently so for those who are struggling to find their own can see how such small things can have a big impact.
My heart is full of gratitude and thanks for:
-the wonderful love and outpouring from family who are always there to help me in any way I need at any time
-my sweet and dear friends who take the time and effort to talk with me on a regular basis and allow me to open up and “be real” about life
-my huge bed—- that once was a reminder of the emptiness in my life without Tony but has now become a family bed that any and all of my kids can climb into when they need some extra cuddles
-a healthy body that is able to care for my children day after day
-massages from my kids (for real— I had five of them rubbing my feet, hands, back and neck all at the same time last night!)
-new opportunities to meet new people and foster new friendships that I’d never would have experienced before
-being able to have my downtime each evening to work on bettering me as a person (outside of being a mother)
-the sweet faces of my kids that are a constant reminder of Tony and who help give me purpose in this stage of my life right now
-each of my kids’ laughs— they are all different yet all equally contagious and adorable

We cannot fully enjoy and appreciate the blessings in our lives until we recongnize how good life really can be and then show that gratitude. Our gratitude will in turn glorify us as we become new and beautiful from our cheerful attitudes.

Looking in the here and now, we can all find many more blessings in our lives than the difficult things. I don’t believe in coincidences because I know that we all have a Father in Heaven who will take any opportunity to show His love to us. And when we take the time to stop and look to see those tender mercies, we will see His constant love.

Homesick

Dear Tony,

There is no other way to explain this but I am homesick for you. On days like today, my heart feels like it’s a stress ball, my stomach is in knots, my head is cloudy, the lump in my throat just plain hurts, and my eyes are welling up with tears every few minutes.

Grief is a strange thing; life can feel fine for awhile where I think of you constantly but with a smile on my face. Reminiscing about you and longing for you gladdens my soul with hope and excitement for seeing you again. But then some of those awful days hit when you least expect it as if being punched in the stomach. The after pains are just as intense as the initial blow, and I feel sick.

It really is homesickness. I long for our life together again where everything flowed and made sense, where I felt I always had a place in this world where together we worked toward our dreams. My ears long to hear your voice; my eyes to see your face when you laugh. If you could just come hold me for  a few minutes and talk and laugh and cry with me, I’d be ready to face another ten months of missing you.

This nasty homesickness reminds me of all the domino effects of things I don’t want to do anymore. I don’t want to mark “single: widowed/divorced/separated” on another form again. I don’t want to explain my situation to people and make them feel a little uncomfortable. I don’t want to tell our little Tanner over and over again that God can’t make you come back right now. I don’t want to navigate life’s challenges without your input and direction. I don’t want to miss you anymore.... because I just want you here.

Despite all the things I don’t want to do, slowly I’m finding the things I do want to do— and turn them into things I can accomplish. I do want to make you proud of how I am living as an individual and how I am trying to raise our children. I do want to sacrifice any “wants” in my life so that our kids will look back at their childhood, not feeling angry that you are gone but only grateful for how much they have been blessed. I do want to always be able to see God’s tender hand in our lives and know that you will always care and will be near. And I do want to encourage others in their daily battles by opening up about my own troubles, in hopes of letting the world know that regardless of our challenges we can persevere and become better through Christ. These are things I can do, and doing them makes the homesickness more bearable.

Tony, I also want you to know how much our kids miss you. And that they are all so beautiful and strong and remarkable in their own ways. Despite their own awful grief, they are happy, loving and kind; they want to be good and do their best. I know you are helping somehow and I want to thank you for still leading and guiding our family with me.

You have half of my heart with you and I am beginning to see that you left half of yours with me.
I love you.
Erica

Elephant cookies/ Let's kick cancer to the curb

During the month of September, these cute elephant cookies are being sold at Kneader's with 100% of the proceeds going toward childhood cancer research. Not only are they yummy and adorable, but they are bringing hope to my family and many other families across the globe. Check out THIS LINK to see how elephant DNA is making ground-breaking research in Salt Lake City!

Dr. Joshua Schiffman at the Huntsman Cancer Institute is the orchestrator of this amazing discovery. Since Tony was diagnosed with Li-Fraumeni Syndrome (LFS) in late 2008, Dr. Schiffman has been a big part of our family. He is the type of doctor who invests his heart in his patients, and Tony and our children are no exception. When I last visited with Dr. Schiffman this past June for my kids' annual physical exams with him, he was sure to let me know how hard his team is working to fight against cancer, with Tony as a source of their determination to make this work. If research goes according as planned, human trials are likely to begin in THREE years! This is simply amazing!

Following Tony's diagnosis of LFS, four of our seven children have tested positive for the mutated gene. Landon, Emma, Sophie, and our newest baby Caleb, all are at a very high risk for getting cancer (90-100% chance in their lifetime, often occurring at a young age). Each summer, these four undergo detailed cancer screenings in order to detect any cancers in their bodies. As of now, we cannot prevent cancer from developing in their bodies; our only defense at the present is early detection. My great hope is that Dr. Schiffman's elephant and cancer research will help discover a way to actually help prevent cancer for my kids! This would be a wonderful miracle for my family--- and for anyone. Cancer affects so many people in today's world and this research can help our world population as a whole.

For more information about this research as well as Li-Fraumeni Syndrome, check out these sites and videos (some of which we are featured in)... And while you are at it, go buy an elephant cookie :)

 Li-Fraumeni Syndrome Association

Elephant genes hold big hopes for cancer research

What is Li-Fraumeni Syndrome?