Dad's Birthday Celeration of His Life

I slept so good last night and was so excited to be able to stay home and get caught up on my housework. I know that sounds stupid, but after the last two weeks of worrying about Dad and then planning a funeral, I just want to get back to normal. As I've looked back on the last week, I realize just how blessed I am. To have the parents that I was born to, and then to be able to have grown up with my wonderful siblings. I was surprised at how well we worked together to pull off the funeral. We all had opinions that were considered and it was a joy to spend some time with them. As we walked into the funeral home to dress Dad for burial, I felt so weird. I asked the man helping us if my feelings were normal. He said, "it is called the funeral fog, everyone has it and it's all part of the grieving process." Whew! I'm not as crazy as I thought maybe I was becoming. When Dad passed away on the 22nd, I started thinking about his birthday. He had planned on having another dose of chemotherapy that day. I hadn't felt good about him doing another round, but both he and my Mom knew that it was the only thing that could stop the cancer from growing. Instead of having chemo, we had a birthday party for him. I can't express my love for all those who supported us through this time of sorrow. He looked so beautiful in his casket. My Mom even mentioned how he looked like he was smiling. It was if I could hear him tell us thank you, over and over again for supporting his decision to be out of pain. Dad was never one to back down from a fight and he took cancer to the very end, living ten years longer than the doctors ever thought. He had faith in his doctors and had the courage to do hard things. My Dad and I were so much alike we banged heads a few times during my life. The most profound thing he ever said to me was when I was around sixteen. We were arguing about some stupid thing and he said, "You know Teri, you are never going to be as smart as you think you are right now." Boy was he right, I feel like I'm getting dumber the older I get. Yesterday when all the family arrived for the funeral it was like a reunion. Most of my cousins were there and some of my friends that I love very much, came to support me. The most talented organist in the church even volunteered to come play, which added so much spirit to the services. We now turn to our Mother who is left behind. She is a woman of faith and has held up so well during all of this. I don't know how families could do something so hard without the help of everyone. I am truly blessed to have been born to this family and into this church. I know the Savior lives and because of his sacrifice I will see my Dad again. I know he has been able to see the Father he never knew and hopefully been able to talk to Kamber. We will all have to pass through the veil to return home to live with those who have gone before, until then I'll just keep working hard to be worthy to join them someday.
 

"The State of the Soul"

What a whirlwind of emotion I've been in these last four days. Just a few more days and I will hopefully be able to get back to normal, whatever that is. On the way down to Hospice last Thursday it felt so strange to be heading on the freeway to be with someone as they pass from this earth. I had only been asleep two hours when we got the call, so I know part of my mood was because of being so tired. I remember telling Rich how weird I felt and that it seemed I was being asked to do a spiritual thing as a mortal being. I can't really explain it but it was something I had never felt before. I have never actually watched someone take their last breath until then. It was interesting to me to see just how fast his coloring and skin changed when he stopped breathing, and I knew his spirit had left his body.  While we were waiting for Bunkers to come pick him up, we were talking about Dad and Len was quoting some scriptures. When we got in the car to come home I asked him to tell me where to find one that I felt was special. It is Alma 40:11-12, which says, "Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection--Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow." Then the scriptures go on to tell what will happen to those who are evil which doesn't sound very fun. At times I'm so sad that Dad has left us behind, and I've even had a hint of anger that Mom is now left alone for the rest of her life. But I am so happy for him that he is out of pain and is enjoying his state of rest and peace, where all his troubles and sorrows are gone. That's where I want to be.

"I Have Fought a Good Fight"

I wish there was a handbook to follow when someone dies that has been such an influence for good in your life. Sometimes I think I'm having an "out of body" experience and that time stood still for a week and now it's spinning out of control. This morning we went to the mortuary to make the final arrangements for Dad's viewing and funeral next week. My Mom isn't herself and I think she is still in shock, denial, and just plain old heartbroken. Last night when I made my final call to her I asked  how she was doing. I said, "Mom, aren't you relieved that Dad went so fast and is out of pain?" She answered with a soft, "yes, I'm glad he's out of pain but I sure miss my little fellow." It hit me just how devastated she really is. She has been his caretaker for sixty-four years now, feeding him, showering and dressing him and even watching the Diamondbacks games religiously with him. Now she is alone in the house they have been in since 1956. We have offered to have her come live with one of us, and she still may end up over here, but for now she is staying where she is reminded all the time that Dad isn't coming home. When I left Hospice yesterday, a thought kept coming in to my mind. It was driving me crazy that I couldn't find it in my scriptures. So finally this morning early when I woke up, I looked in the Topical Guide of the Bible and found it in 2 Timothy 4:7. It says "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." When Kamber passed away I kept saying, "I can do hard things" over and over in my mind. Now seven years down the road my new motto is "I have fought a good fight, I have kept the faith." That will keep my Dad's memory alive for me for a long, long, time.

"The Rock of our Redeemer"

After Dad gave us all the talk on Tuesday and told us his wishes to not try and save his life and help get him out of pain, Hospice was called. We waited to hear when a bed would open up so they could move him out of the hospital.  When Ethan called me last night and told me they were getting him ready for transport, I was shocked it had happened so fast. We had planned a family meeting for last night to discuss what to do with Dad, so I stayed home and got caught up on some of my work. We got a call during the meeting telling us they had Dad and were getting him comfortable. I couldn't sleep, praying that the Lord would have mercy on him and our family and make this transition quick and not drag out for days or weeks. At 2:30 a.m. we got a call from Len telling us they had called and said Dad had taken a "turn for the worse." By the time we all got there at 3:00 Dad was wanting Rich and I to sit him up and get his feet on the floor. I asked him where he thought he was going and he didn't know. After we all got there they gave him another dose of Morphine and he started to settle down and relax a little bit. We all sat and watched him start to breath shallower and shallower until he finally took his last breath of air at 5:00 a.m.. After twelve years of battling prostate cancer his fight was over. He left this earth with all his children, his wife, and a dear cousin supporting him to the end. I have been down this road of grief before and I know I'm in the first stage which is denial. My mind is trying to come to grips that my Dad will never walk again on this earth and I won't see him again until I pass through the veil, where I know he will be there to greet me. I know he's with his parents, grandparents and others he so dearly loved and for sure has given Kamber a big hug for us. As we were watching Dad struggle to breath, Len kept coming up with scriptures that seemed to resonated with what we were experiencing. The one that is most special to me is the one Dad recited last night as they were leaving and Len ask him what his favorite scripture was. He said, Helaman 5:12 "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that you must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." I'm so thankful for my testimony of the Savior, I know he lives and answers prayers, I've seen it in my life this last week and hope to build my life upon the rock of our Redeemer, just like Dad did.

Yeterday Was Really Hard

Yesterday was a really hard day, one of many more to come I'm sure. When my SIL Julie and I got to the hospital, Dad was really struggling. My sister had just left and my youngest brother Ben was there visiting. Dad wanted to have the "talk" with us, the talk that every child doesn't want to ever have with their aged parents. He wanted to let us know that he is tired. He is in pain. He doesn't want to prolong his life when he feels so bad. I totally respect that and told him I didn't want him to suffer any more either.  So what's the next step? When Kamber passed away it was sudden, crappy but we knew it was over for her and she was back home in heaven. With Dad there are so many questions, like how much time does he have left and what do we do with him to keep him the most comfortable? When he told the nurses yesterday that he is finished and doesn't want to fight anymore, he started the ball rolling down the hill. A social worker was sent in and then Hospice. I never really knew what Hospice does except that when they are called in it is a death sentence. I got some education yesterday that you can only get when you have someone close to you is terminally ill. So after listening to her, we now need to make some decisions. Dad will stay at the hospital until they have a bed open up in a Hospice Facility. When he is stable and ready to be moved he will go somewhere else, that is where we come in, his family, his wife, kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. I know Dad is most worried about my Mom because he thinks she is in denial, which she is. She kept telling him yesterday that he has to get better so he can come home and mow the yard. This big strong, athletic, righteous, competitive Father of mine has given up on his mortality. Now it's our job to keep him comfortable and give him the dignity he deserves until the end of his life. This is really hard, I hope we are up to the task to honor his wishes and let him go.

The Will of the Savior

My mind has been spinning since last week when Dad was put in the hospital. Yesterday Tristyn played in a volleyball tournament at ASU, so I went to support her and then we went to the hospital to see Dad. When we got there he had several other visitors from his ward and my brother Len, his wife Julie and my niece Aubrey. After everyone left, Mindi and I tried to talk to him to see if we could help him out. He looks swollen and when you ask him how he feels all he says is "awful." The doctors have been busy trying to find out what is wrong with him. Less than two weeks ago he was at my house playing Rook and eating Mexican food and now he's in a hospital bed feeling rotten. We have known Dad is on borrowed time since 2001 when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Without treatment they said he would only live 12 to 18 months, so the fact he has liven this long is a tender mercy for sure. Last night when I couldn't sleep, I was going through all the scenarios of what is going to happen. How can we make room for Mom to come live with us if things don't go well and Dad never comes home from the hospital? I hate this feeling of being between the proverbial "rock and a hard place." I don't want him to suffer and prolong his life when the quality is so bad, but the thought of losing him for the rest of my life hurts, and takes me down that long dark road when we lost Kamber. I do have a testimony of the Savior and know he knows of our concerns and worries. As I talked to Mom on the phone last night, she is so full of faith. She thinks he will get better and come home, but she also knows we aren't in charge and she said, "if the Savior wants him home, then I know the will of God has been done."

Dad's In The Hopsital

I had so much I needed and wanted to get done yesterday. I spent the week picking up all the ingredients to make green corn tamales with a friend of mine who has wanted to learn how to make them for a year now. I got up early and started my day when I got a call from Mom telling me she was in the hospital with my Dad. He has been really sick after having chemotherapy last Wednesday but we were hoping things were turning around for him.  I guess after falling asleep on the couch watching t.v. , she woke up at 1:30 a.m. and Dad was still up watching a show. She tried to get him up out of his chair and in bed, when he decided to just sit down on the floor. She tried for half an hour to get him up when finally he told her to call 911. After the paramedics arrived they decided he needed to go to the hospital, so they took him in an ambulance and one of the firemen drove her truck, parked it and got her into the hospital where they admitted him and started running tests. I hurried and did my tamales and then my sister and I headed over to the hospital. We got there just when they were getting him back in his room from running some tests and neither one of them had eaten a bite of food. I had brought two tamales for Mom but nothing sounded good to Dad to eat. We ordered some food anyway and stayed with them until some other family members came and then we left for home.  The nurse came in before we left and told us that he has a huge blood clot in his right leg and they were starting a heparin drip to dissolve the clot, hopefully preventing it from going to his lungs or heart.  As we were driving home we were talking about all the options we have to take care of our parents. I don't think he is strong enough to take anymore chemo, but without it he will surely die. I'm not so sure that taking it may kill him also. When you get in your sixties and have parents in their eighties you know at any time life can change. Losing Kamber at two years old is proof that we are all on borrowed time anyway. So today I will be going back over to the hospital to support him and hopefully he will be improving and will someday be able to come home. Until then we are just in a waiting game that we knew would happen at some time in our lives.

Same Old Sadness in the New Year

I've been discouraged that the first two weeks of the new year have just been a continuation of the same old crap from last year. At times it is hard to have hope in the future, that maybe things will get better and will work out for my good. My Dad's cancer counts are going up, so his doctor decided a super strength treatment of chemotherapy would be the answer. It has made him so sick, I don't know what will kill him first, the cancer or the treatments. I had a friend who's Dad went in to the hospital for treatment and they kept upping his chemo until it killed him, he never left the hospital. I will never forget that. When I talk to my Mom about it, all she says is that if he doesn't do it, he will die. It's hard getting older and seeing your parents health start declining. I feel stuck between worrying about their health and then the twins and all their little setbacks on the other end of the spectrum. I was thinking the other day that when these babies go on their missions, if they decide to go, I will be almost eighty years old. At the rate I'm going I may be long gone by then anyway, so why worry about something so far in the future that may not even happen? I've been trying to get rid of all my excess junk so we could move Tristyn down into our spare room. All it seems like I've done is just create more messes because I don't have anywhere to put all my extra stuff. Oh well, she will be off to college in another year, so hopefully we can endure until she goes away. Yesterday I had an appointment with a new specialist. He thinks he may be able to help me feel better. That would be nice, I hope it happens but I hate to get my hopes up too high and then it not work out. Anyway, tomorrow I'm going over to help a friend make green corn tamales. She has wanted me to teach her for a long time and finally tomorrow is the day. They are so much work, but so yummy, maybe a big dose of tamales will cheer me up, I can only hope.

Surgery, Chemo and 60th Birthday

I spent a lot of last week going through closets and drawers trying to get rid of all my excess stuff. I figure if I hadn't used it, or worn it in five years it was out of here. I don't know why I hold on to things that I will never use or wear, it makes me crazy. When Spencer and Annie were here going through their stuff I was amazed at how little sentimental value they put on their stuff. I just have a hard time letting go. Last week Rustin was in the hospital having the same surgery Gage had on New Year's day. These poor babies are sure having a rough start to their little lives. During surgery the surgeon discovered a hernia that will need to be fixed later this month. I have to question why a surgeon wouldn't just fix it while he was in there, instead of putting the baby back under again and all the risks that go with that. They are checking Gage to make sure he doesn't have the same hernia problem as the two seem to have the same DNA, which I hope they will test soon to see if they are identical or not. They sure seem to be identical to me, but unless you do the test you don't know for sure.  My Dad went in for Chemotherapy last Wednesday and by Saturday he was so sick he couldn't keep anything down, nor did he want to eat. We all got together for my brother Len's 60th birthday last night and my parents didn't come, so I know he feels rotten. I have often wondered what I would do if put in the same situation. I don't think I would ever be brave enough to let the put poison in my body. When I told my Mom that, all she said was, "if he doesn't do it then he will die." Maybe it's just me but there are worse things than dying, and that's feeling like you are going to, or praying to pass on. At 86 years old I don't know if his body will be able to endure this round of poison, but if he wants to go through it then it's his choice, we will be here to love and support him to the end.

Purging Closets and Rustin's Surgery

I thought the New Year would bring some quiet time and I would be able to catch up on my quilting projects that I've neglected over the last two months. Mindi had other plans, as they decided to move Tristyn back into our spare bedroom that had become the junk and storage area since she moved out last time. Because Spencer and Annie were here, we were able to have them spend a day and go through all the junk they left when they moved to Colorado when he was drafted by the Broncos. Yes, their stuff has moved from their house in Queen Creek, to Mindi's garage, to our spare bedroom and now it's sitting in Ethan's shop ready to be shipped to wherever they decide to live when their home sells in Boston. I am embarrassed to say that I have hoarded clothes for a long time and now that Tristyn needs the closets it has forced me to purge, sending some to DI and some to others who want them. I'm not OCD about my stuff but others in my family are, so I'm trying to get rid of whatever I don't think I'll use. So far it has been a really positive experience and I can't wait to get my stuff organized and hopefully I won't miss all the excesses I have accumulated over the years. This morning as we were working away, I got a call from Ethan saying that now the other twin has the same thing Gage had last week, throwing up and not keeping anything down.  He had an ultrasound today and they sent them straight to the hospital to wait for surgery to take place as soon as possible. We have been wondering if they are identical twins since they have been born. The only way to tell is by a DNA test. Now that Rustin has the same thing, Pyloric Stenosis it just seems they must share the same genetics because they both have the same struggles. Now as a family we are pulling together to help while Jenn and Ethan are in the hospital as this baby has surgery, maybe some day we will win the lottery because with the mounting medical bills we are going to need a miracle to be able pay for all this care. We are so thankful to live in this time with such good medical doctors. These babies would have both died if they were born back in the pioneer times, we are just praying everything goes well with the surgery and he can come home soon.

Hope for the New Year

For the last couple of months I have contemplated not blogging anymore. Sometimes I feel that maybe I share things about me and family that aren't things others should know about us. Maybe that we are human and struggle just like everyone else and we are definitely not a perfect family, far from it. I have decided that I write because it lets me put my feelings and experiences down in a way that in the future I will remember just how blessed we really are, so I will carry on. On Monday morning I got a call from Ethan asking if I could come out and help Jenn with the kids and to take the boys to the doctor. Gage had been throwing up since Saturday night and didn't seem to be able to keep anything down. So I spent the day with her doing laundry and going to the pediatrician. He checked all the boys out and said he thought it was a little bug and to continue doing what she was doing and maybe add a little bit of rice cereal to help him keep his food down. By Tuesday night he was really critical, so we got another call asking for help again, this time to come out and take care of the kids so they could take Gage to the ER at Cardon's Childrens Hospital. Mindi and I didn't sleep more than three or four hours as we were worried and taking care of a four week old whose brother was really sick. By one in the morning I got a call from the hospital saying the baby had Pyloric Stenosis and he would require surgery. So after starving him out all night he went in to surgery yesterday morning to correct the problem. After surgery they started him out with a half ounce of pedialyte to make sure he could keep it down. He has been able to keep everything down they have fed him so far and are waiting for the surgeon to come check on him and release him to go home. This is truly a tender mercy from our Heavenly Father because this is so dangerous the doctors said if not treated is fatal. Jenn listened to the spirit and did what she was prompted to do. After having little sleep, Rich and I were in bed before ten o'clock last night. I heard a bunch of fireworks going off but I was so tired I didn't really care. We have totally turned in to old folks and it's pretty sad. We are just hoping that 2015 is better than the end of 2014.