Frost

I'm not sure what changed, but I used to hate long sleeves and sweaters.  There were a couple winters in Casper where I literally wore no coat and flip flops, as long as it wasn't windy, no matter the temperatures.  And don't get me started on my aversion to tight sleeves and anything that crept up on the neck!  Fast forward to now, where I wear thermals under layers and layers while snuggling in front of a heat dish and under heavy, fuzzy blankets, and still feel cold.  Something's changed, making me yearn for a happy median.

I'm not sure why, but this winter has felt more cold.  Even the thought of going outside has me shivering.  It's been more gray, making it seem as if it should be much colder, so I feel it much colder.  "The world exists as you perceive it.  ~Rumi"  It hasn't been windy, yet, but even a slight breeze feels as if it is boring straight into my marrow.  To say I have become disenchanted with winter and cold would be a gross understatement.  But, maybe something could change my perception...

Friday evening I got a text from Jennifer's mom, Rebecca.  She sent pictures along with the words, "Jennifer loved on your son today."  Rebecca suggested she go back only when she was ready, which I truly understand-- it's hard for me to go there sometimes, and he's my son.  Or maybe it's because he's my son...  I cannot even imagine losing a friend at 16, whether it is a close friend you've had for years (Brayden Busch in Casper or Zachary Bagley here), or just started to really hang out in that fun, teenage way.  It breaks my heart thinking of these young friends that meant so much to him, and will always mean so much to me.  They will be watched and loved forever.

Jennifer took flowers to his grave, but since I'd already filled the vase, left only one.  My heart ached, yet was so moved with love for this simple, meaningful gesture.

When taking Keilie to zero-hour, I make a sort of loop that allows me to pass in front of the cemetery on my way home.  Sometimes I simply whisper, "I love you, Caden," as I pass, other times I go in.  Tuesday was a "go in" day.  It's always pretty dark in the morning, seeing as we leave the house at 6:30am, so I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me as I approached his grave.  Since it had been four days since she'd left the rose, I expected it to be flat and wilted.  As I drew closer, my eyes started to sting from emotion-- that rose had been preserved by the frost, still full-bloom and perfect.  If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she'd left it that very morning.  What began as a "need to stop" day quickly became the beautiful beginning to a great day.

The next morning was a "go in" day, but only because I wanted to see what that flower looked like on the fifth day!  As my feet crunched across the frozen, crispy grass, I once again felt emotion sting my eyes-- it was still perfect.

While I am not warm to the idea of winter, I think frost may be the perfect thing for me right now.  It preserves love just a little bit longer, bringing warmth to my broken, healing heart.  Today was the first day of my life that I was sad it wasn't my turn to drive in the cold, dark morning.  Oh, how wonderful it is to have such amazing friends throughout our journey.

Pickup!

Jamie had an awesome experience yesterday that I had to try for myself: Walmart Pickup!  She ordered a trunk-full of groceries from the comfort of her home, got an email when it was ready for pickup, drove to pick it up, had her trunk loaded for her without getting out of her car, and drove home; there and back within minutes.  I had to try it for myself.

After dropping Shelby and Brennon off at school for choir practice, I came home to "do my shopping."  I had to download the app, set up an account, and then order what I wanted-- 48 items in my "cart," and only 23 minutes from sit down to done.

I was telling Kimberly how excited I was for this new, genius development when she asked, "So, what do you get to do with your free time instead of shopping?"  My first thought was that I was getting ready to go to the gym.  Then I realized she meant what I would do with the time I wasn't at the store.  But, here's the thing: It's not the time I am happy to be saving, it is the anxiety I will not feel while shopping.  I have never liked shopping.  I have never liked crowds.  I feel so much anxiety going to the store.  Don't even get me started on Costco and Black Friday.  For the last few years, I have gone to the store multiple times a week, but only with a very specific, very small list.  I run in, grab exactly what I need, hurry to the check-out, and get the heck out of there.  I usually do this after the gym, since it's right next to Walmart, so I don't make unnecessary trips, even though I go 4-5 times a week.  When Jamie told me about her "score," I realized that I could get my entire list, like, my Master List, without even having to go inside the store (or pass the solicitors that always ask if you want to buy their crap).  I was con.vinced!

I got the email that my order was ready at 12:50pm.  I was in the car at 12:51pm, waiting in my Reserved For Pickup spot at 12:57pm, home by 1:13pm, groceries put away at 1:19pm.  My food rotations systems are all full, my pantry is well-stocked and organized, and my fridge and freezer have all the fixins.  And I never even had to leave my car!

This revolutionizes my shopping.  The only negative thought I have is this: Where was this when I had five kids under 8 in Casper's heinous, frigid, sandblast-your-skin-off weather?!  Can I get a do-over, please?!

Condensed

Still passing my time at half-past Caden, my first thought today was that it has been two months.  It wasn't a horrible day because of the thought, but I do still think about him one million times a day.  I worked and worked all day, accomplishing many items on my daily and perpetual cleaning lists.  By the time the kids got home, I was pretty exhausted from a day on the go.  But, I was not done moving and working-- my kids wouldn't let me forget that I'd promised them that I'd help them transition rooms some more.

I thought I'd keep Caden's room and closet exactly as he'd left them for at least a year-- there was just something so comforting knowing that that was the way he liked things to be kept.  I loved looking in his organized closet and at his perfectly made bed and remembering.  Each night that I'd put the kids to bed, I'd stop in the room, whisper that I loved him, and blow a kiss to heaven-- I put five kids to bed each night.  About a month after, a thought came into my mind that grew in intensity-- give Caden's x-box (given to him by Randy's boss and coworkers while in Seattle last year) to the kids.  With the insistence of the thought my anxiety grew, so November 16th I just walked up to his room and took his TV, x-box and side table that he'd had them on out of his room.  I cried the whole time, barely able to breathe due to exertion and emotions, working as fast as possible to just get it over with.  I thought that would be the last of the changes for a good, long while... until another thought came repeatedly to my mind a few weeks later: let Shelby sleep in his bed.

When I approached Shelby with the idea, she jumped and clapped.  I told her that I was not ready to touch his closet, to which she said she wasn't either, but that she could move into his room only.  Hearing that Shelby was moving, Brennon asked if he could move into her room.  This news broke my heart!  I LOVE having the boys so close, sharing a room, talking at bedtime-- it was memories of a happy childhood doing the same thing!  But the boys said they'd like to have their own rooms.  So, November 23rd, Shelby moved to Caden's bed, Brennon moved to Shelby's bed, Tyson became the sole sleeper in the "bonus" room, and all clothing stayed where it was.  Again, I thought that was how it would stay for a while.  Until the kids asked when we'd be able to finish the job....

Each part of the transition has been extremely hard for me.  It takes days and sometimes weeks to pluck up enough courage to even consider making these changes that feel so final.  It hurts like I'm losing him all over again with each small task.  I can't breathe, I feel faint, I want to rip the burning, racing heart from my own chest.  But now it's done-- his treasures are all in the cedar chest, and his clothing is packed away for Brennon and Tyson in years to come. 

I'm trying not to obsessively dwell on the fact that my son's life has been condensed to a grave site, cedar chest, and small closet, but my thoughts won't quiet.  Oh, my heart.  My son...

Sew Cool!

Way back in May, I had the kids fill out a questionnaire with questions on how I could help make their summer more fun.  Keilie answered: take a sewing class with us.  I granted that wish on Saturday morning-- we all took a pillowcase making class at Simple Stitching Sewing School.

Next week we get to make holiday towels-- I will finally learn how to sew a button hole!  Although Tyson still needs to take the beginner class (hopefully in January), he still accomplished this pillowcase on his own.  I LOVE that my kids are learning how to sew!!  It is sew cool and makes me sew happy.  Puns-- I can't help myself, it seams....

Bliss

To better help you understand why this is so surprising, let me give you a bit of the backstory.  When we first looked at this house, it was immaculately clean.  The previous owners had vacated the home, painted all of the walls (except the hideous orange/yellow walls of the front room-- strange), and replaced all of the carpet and toilets.  I assume they also hired a cleaning service and a furniture stager, along with their realtor, because the home showed well.  The second I walked in the door, after looking at the pictures online for days, I knew it was going to be ours.  I felt it.  This was home. 

I gasped when I saw the cabinets.  When we were building a home in Herriman, Utah in 2005 (one that we didn't end up doing-- but that's another story), we were sent to a showroom to choose all of the options for our home.  And I do mean all of the options.  The cabinets in this home were the major upgrade that we wouldn't have been able to afford back then.  There are many upgrades in this home that I once wished we could have had in all of our homes.  I'm telling you, this home is a dream home for me.

Now, I'm not saying that I wouldn't have purchased this home had I known, but I would have definitely made the previous owners deal with what we saw today before we signed papers.  The cleaning people cleaned every square inch of the home.... that can be easily seen without a ladder...

We've been slowly putting Caden's things in a cedar chest that Ashlee made in High School and gifted to us for Caden's treasures.  His many Legos are too fragile to put away, so we decided that we'd put them on top of our kitchen cabinets, along with some block letters that spell out his name.  I decided to put them above the microwave/oven cabinets, so they can be easily seen from many different angles in the home-- even from the front door.  Wanting to have the better vantage point for decorating, I asked Keilie to stand on the counters to place them where I told her to.  She stood up, looked on top of the cupboards, and squealed....

Those are her finger swipes, testing to see what we were dealing with.  Friends, that is grease and dust on top of the white cupboard tops!!  Notice the spiders, bugs, and wasps stuck in the goop.

 Randy offered Keilie $8.00/hour to clean them for us while we take our Sunday nap.  She happily agreed.  Little did she know before she started that she'd need more tools than originally planned.

 Scrape.  Scrape.  Scrape....

Oh, yes, my friends, that is just one small portion.  Our home is 15 years old now.  We were told that the previous owners, while friendly, were not the best home owners.  While I do not clean above them regularly (clearly, since we've lived here for 8.5 months now), I try and clean them every 2-3 years.  If we live in a home that long... 

Here is the weird thing:  I said before that there were many upgrades in this home.  What I did not say was that the woman designed every aspect of this build.  She is the one that made the Master Bathroom counter higher.  She is the one that added all of the amazing storage.  She is the one that actually designed the bedrooms and layout of the entire house!  Weird fact:  When building, she did not even want a kitchen.  You read that right-- she did not want a kitchen in her home.  She didn't cook.  They ate out for every meal.  EVERY MEAL!!!!  So, it begs the question: WHAT WAS DONE IN THIS KITCHEN TO CAUSE SO MUCH BUILD UP?!?!?!

 Last-- another upgrade that we found today is the plugs above the cupboards, controlled by a switch in the kitchen.  I hadn't seen them before Keilie pointed them out.  *I'm super observant like that, as we've learned the last few months*  Again, there was a switch in this house that I didn't know what it controlled.  While Keilie was up there, she asked why they would put plugs where they wouldn't be used.  It was my turn to squeal!

That has always been something that I've wanted.  If I wanted to put lights above the cabinets, I had to actually link them together and then drill a hole down to the plug for the microwave above the oven.  No drilling for me in this house!  And I can turn them on with a switch!  There are two plugs above this side, and one above the other side, all controlled by that one switch.  So..... if you are going to be so thoughtful when you are designing a home with an upgrade to allow for things above the cabinets, why did you never use that upgrade?  Clearly, the top of these cabinets have not been seen by human eyes since the first day of building.  Who knows, maybe some of this dust is from the initial build of the home!

So, if you have eaten food made by me since we moved into this home in MARCH, heck, if you have breathed air in my home for more than three seconds, be sure to thank Heavenly Father in your prayers for preserving your health!  Ignorance has been bliss!  Now I feel as if I have lived an episode of hoarders.  Not happy-making feelings, my friends.  Ignorance is bliss!

Christmas 2017

Merry Christmas 2017!!

Love, The Dirks

*Look for Caden's ornament on the tree.

Picture Bursts

 I have posted before and mentioned recently that we do a family ornament each year, something that commemorates our family life.  Our first ornament was a time capsule, telling all that we did that year, what was in the news at the time, and generally what we were doing on our First Christmas Together.  Our second year was almost forgotten.  Everything I thought about was my 7 month old-- who has time to think about ornaments when you have a infant to snuggle?  So I went to bed pretty upset after remembering that we hadn't gotten one yet, too exhausted to think of what we could do.  I woke Christmas morning 2001 to a homemade ornament surprise from Randy.  He'd gone through my craft bucket and made a simple ornament from a decorative light bulb and some curling ribbon.  It has always held a special place in my memories and heart.

2013 we decided that we wanted our ornament to be a family picture in our new home.  Well, new to us that year-- we moved in in February.  Before opening any presents (notice the clock-- 5:53am), we gathered around the tree for the picture we'd put in the ornament.  In a burst of ten pictures taken on a timer, this was the one we knew we'd choose the second we saw it on the computer.  9 pictures had us all looking at the camera and tired-smiling so great.  The One had Randy making the face that he does to clear his eyes for the next timed picture.  We laughed and laughed at his face after opening all of our gifts. 

I've been going through our Christmas family pictures-- some posed in matching clothes, some in jammies in front of the tree, all gloriously beautiful.  Seeing us smiling brings me joy.  My family may joke about how many pictures I take and pose and coordinate, but one day they'll thank me for capturing so many good times.  Who wouldn't love to see Randy's eye-clearing face?!

Nativity

This may just be my favorite Christmas picture of all time, forever.  1. Because it is freaking adorable.  2.  Because the back story is so freaking hilarious.

As soon as I knew my baby was to be a boy born in October, I had plans to do this Nativity pictures; something that I would pull out each Christmas and keep forever.  I immediately started to gather different props for my Mary, Joseph, Angel, Shepherd, baby Jesus, and manger.  They're not perfect, (you can clearly see that the headdress for Joseph is a towel), but it was never meant to be professional anyway.  There was only one problem:  Caden was not going to wear the pink, purple, and yellow woman's robe without a vehement fight and protest.

I knew I was going to change it to either black & white or sepia (I have it in both), so I kept trying to convince Caden that it wouldn't matter, that you wouldn't even be able to see that it was a girl-colored robe.  Nope.  Tears and screaming and anger.  I finally pulled the "I am your mother!!  You will do as I say" card, but it did not bode well for the photo shooot.  I was mad.  The kids were on edge.  It proved to be a difficult beginning to a beautiful heirloom.

You'd think it would be an easy picture: Place baby Jesus in a manger in the center, and have everyone stare and smile at him.  So simple.  That was the plan, at least.  The kids didn't seem to understand my words.  Or, eventually my screams.  Oh my gosh, it makes me laugh now, but I was a screaming banshee as I put the camera to my face, screaming at them to simply look at Tyson after many, many failed attempts.  My goodness, they didn't even have to all look at the camera-- a difficult feat with five little kids!!! 

"JUST LOOK AT BABY JESUS AND SMILE, DANG IT!!!!!" (forehead vein popping, eyes bulging, red-purple witch face)

Oh, yeah!  Super spiritual time at the Dirks', capturing the quiet, humble scene of our Savior's birth.  I actually made the kids cry, for real.  Their tears ticked me off even more, and set me to screaming even louder.

"I said SMILE!!!"  (shooting laser beams from my glaring eyes, steam billowing from my ears)

Good times.  Good times.

Merry Christmas!!  

From: The cutest, most disobedient cry babies you've ever seen, the witchiest mother that ever lived and thought she wanted to take pictures, and the husband that nearly died after he laughed at his wife's anger in the actual moment. 

Habits

Randy and I always wanted to have six kids.  I wanted to be done before I was 30, since we married 23 days after my 19th birthday and I had Caden 16 days before my 20th birthday.  Our plan at first was to have a child every 27-30 months.  Then I had two miscarriages in a row after Keilie and our plans became a little more frantic.  We decided to have Shelby and Brennon as close together as we could-- Heavenly Father willing, of course-- wait for a bit, and then have two more close together.  We knew first-hand that our plans didn't really matter on the subject.

While pregnant with Shelby, I damaged my pelvic floor.  Little did I know that choosing to stop breastfeeding and getting pregnant in the same month would cause my bones to continue to stay "soft" (due to the hormone of pregnancy), and that Brennon being so low the entire time (and 8 lbs. at birth, three weeks early) would solidify the damage.  The last two weeks of Brennon's pregnancy I was forced onto bed rest because of the pain.

A short time after Brennon was born, I looked around at my four children and realized that four was just not enough for me.  I knew that I wouldn't be able to physically carry two more, but I could suffer through one more.  So, we made the decision to have Tyson soon after, so that we wouldn't have a single baby years behind the rest.  Hence, three babies in three years.  I didn't know it then, and would have laughed in your face if you would have said it, but having them so close has been my favorite.  I love having them so close.  There were definite times of exhaustion and tears (*cough* mostly mine), but it has been the best!!

For eight years now, I have counted five kids.  Each time we went somewhere, I would count multiple times throughout the outing, making sure I had them all accounted for.  But now-- it is like a bullet in my heart each time I think to count.  Four was never an option for us; it was unthinkable then, it is unbearable now.  My habits are deeply set.  It is agony trying to change my mind, to only count four when I so desperately want to see five.

Brennon asked: "Mom, if I die when I am a kid, will I be buried next to Caden, or next to you?"

I wanted to simultaneously violently cover his mouth, to stop those words immediately, and to sink to my knees, begging my Heavenly Father not to take another of my children.

Pregnant seven times-- four children living.  Four was never an option for us.

Expected

Grief is weird.  Grief is hard.  Grief is confusing.

As I was sitting in my front room last night, content with the glow of the Christmas tree, I thought back on the last two months of our lives.  My goodness, they have been full:  Full of joy, full of immense sorrow.  Full of activity, full of laziness.  Full of clarity and counted blessings.  Full of confusion.  A lot of confusion.

There are moments where I feel so much faith, so much strength, so much hope, and I revel in the peace and comfort that Heaven has afforded my once-suffering child.  And others I just don't know how I can function.  In the moments of faith and strength and hope, I look at the times that I have been drowning with stunned surprise, confused that I can feel so up and down without real thought on my part--'how can you even think/feel that way?  You know there is a Plan!  You know that Caden is thriving and free of pain!  You know, remember?!'  But, sometimes, I do feel lost, I do feel unbearable sorrow, I do feel like I am drowning.  Some moments I know things are going to be difficult (Christmas decorating!) and others that I don't realize the effects until I am in them (Christmas floral arrangement).  I cannot plan on strong emotions, because sometimes I don't feel strong.  I cannot know if I am going to be alright, because sometimes I am not alright.  I cannot really plan days in advance, because I cannot trust myself yet.  And I know that is ok.  Expected, even.  Sometimes grief is beating me to within an inch of my life.

 I have never sugar coated my words.  I have never written only the beauty, never shown only the perfect pictures, never painted a picture of our story that wasn't true emotion.  My words are raw and unfiltered.  This is our real love story.  I know these emotions are "normal."  I know that I am my own worst critic, always too hard on myself for what I consider personal failings and shortcomings.  I know that things will become easier as time moves on, that our new normal won't feel so foreign and surreal.  I know that one day it won't hurt so much, that I will be able to look back on these times and see beauty.  I know that holidays will be joyful without Academy Award Winner acting on my part.  I know.  But, for real, sometimes it is hard to even open my eyes, or close my eyes, or breathe.

It doesn't always hurt.  But when it does..... it really does.

The Moment...

 The moment where you're puting your Traditional Family Year Ornament on the tree (for those that don't know-- we buy one ornament each year to represent the life of our family that year), the one that represents your child....

The moment where you realize that the only Christmas present you're going to buy your child is a solar light...

The moment you realize that the only Christmas Lights you're looking forward to seeing this year is the one light that shines the way to your buried heart.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  It's just a little harder this year to celebrate the birth of a child after suffering the loss of your own.  It shouldn't be, since it's the birth of my Savior, but it's the truth.  Oh, my heart.

Cars

"I didn't have electronic devices growing up, Brennon.  I got my first cell phone at 18."
"What?!  So, did you have, like, cars when you were little?"
"Yes, Brennon, there were cars when I was little."
Innocent punk, making me feel ancient!
I wonder what his kids will be shocked he went without.

7 weeks

 It's so confusing being so excited to have this finally placed (I say finally, because it feels like we've been ready for it to be placed since his funeral) in a spot that we never expected or wanted to have.

 It's so confusing to be so in love with something that means something so heartbreaking.  It turned out exactly as I envisioned in my mind, exactly how Caden explained what he wanted when he joked about it years ago.  He earned his Eagle two years and one month before he died-- Eagle has meant so much to him since.  This particular Eagle looks like the statute that Randy found to commemorate his achievement.

It's so confusing to be so excited to try my hand at more floral arrangements to decorate my sons grave site for differing celebrations that he won't be here for.  This all feels so surreal still.  My son went to Heaven 7 weeks ago today.  Oh, my broken heart.

Happy Thanksgiving in Heaven, Caden!  

We love and miss you deeply!

I Am... Brennon

I AM....

I AM IN 4TH GRADE,

I think: about Caden, my brother,
I pretend: to be happy,
I feel: sad,
I worry: about Caden,
I hope: that Caden will live for a long time,
I dream: about Caden,
I say: Prayers

~Brennon

*Of the 15 questions, these were the ones that ripped my heart out.  Half of his answers centered around the brother that we did not know would pass away one month later.  This breaks my heart.

Promises

Our friends, the Ostrowsky's, came to visit us on the night that Caden passed, giving us gifts and cards, and our inside joke, Big Hunk candy bars.  It was wonderful to have them in our home, loving and laughing.  They knew what we were going through-- their son passed away unexpectedly in December.  Our stories have intertwined many times over the last almost-four years, with each of us giving something the other needed at differing times in our plot twists.  They took our kids to play within days of Caden being diagnosed, we helped where we could when Landon was flown to Seattle (Caden was recovering from another major surgery), and on and on.  But, I feel as if I have so much to still give to these wonderful people that shared their experience meeting Elder Neil L. Anderson in June-- they told us that night that we could do Caden's temple work.  In all honesty, it had never even crossed my mind that we ever would, really.  He was 16!  At their words, I had electricity zing through my veins-- my child, my son needs his temple work done!

From that moment, it was a constant thought in my head.  Truly, some of my napping problems stemmed from thinking and thinking of making arrangements for the session.  It was pressing down on me, this need for my son to make covenants and promises with his Heavenly Father that he could not do on earth, just like the hundreds of deceased peoples we'd done the same for before.  "For the dead" has become more than just words for me now.  I will never view them so distant, nor take them for granted again.  Randy and I felt the same urgency to get it done during the Holidays.  Then we found Caden's actual temple recommend in his wallet-- it was current, but would expire November 2017.  It then became more than just something we wanted to get done before the end of the year, but before the end of November.  Bishop contacted those that he needed to, getting us the printed card two weeks after he passed.  It was then possible to do it whenever we wanted.  Our/Caden's day came November 11th, 2017.

Because of the sacred nature of the temple, I won't go into much detail, other than to say it was one of the most sacred and beautiful and special days of my life.  Randy held Caden's card, I held Caden's recommend.  With each completed promise I wept, thinking of all that my son was gaining and accepting for his missions in heaven.  The Spirit was so strong and beautiful.  Oh, the peace.

As I waited for Randy to meet up with me, I felt a growing anticipation and anxiety to be with him, to hug and be near him, to cry with him, to rejoice with him.  A friend that was instrumental in helping us decide to do it sooner rather than later, hugged me with the question, "Are you waiting for your son?"  She knew.  I was.  I knew that when Randy entered where I was waiting, Caden would be next to him.  To feel my son next to me was something to yearn for and anticipate with my whole soul.  It is so confusing to wish he could be next to me every single second, but be so grateful and excited that he can finally serve a mission-- he wanted to so badly.  My heart filled to overflowing the second I glimpsed my Mister-- Oh, how I love that man!  I am the luckiest girl in the world.

While my heart was overflowing with love and joy, it also broke just a little bit.  With these promises, these covenants that we helped Caden to make, we also finished the absolute last task we could, and ever would, for our son.  There is nothing else we can do for him.  Sure, we can remember him, but that is not a conscious choice, that will be as natural as breathing.  But to actually serve and give of ourselves for my child, there is nothing left to do.

Caden's headstone arrived on the 15th at the cemetery.  I rushed over to make the final payment, giving them the go-ahead to lay it as soon as they could.  We're anticipating it being laid today or tomorrow.  Once the cement cures, everything will be finalized.  Everything will be real.  Our son is not coming back.  Our son really is in heaven.  Gone from our eyes, never from our hearts.

Caden, I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

Valentine's

Because we have so many scrap pieces of fabric from four of my five kids taking sewing lessons, and because I have so many scraps from the quilts I made while at the Ronald McDonald House in April and May, I decided that I would make the kids' Valentines this year (well, 2018): Bookmarks.  I've spent the last two days cutting fabric and felt in my spare time, making quite the pile of sew-ready projects.  The kids gasped when they saw the piles, begging to sew them themselves.  How could I refuse?

Keilie did not want to be documented, so I took a picture of her machine-- I'm sneaky like that.  Jamie let me borrow three machines from her school to "set up shop."  In January, when Jamie does her next Beginner's Class, Tyson will round out the family members that want to sew.  I plan to get him a gift card stocking stuffer for the class and to Joanne's for his own fabric choices.

With a shrug of his shoulders and a cute, cute face, Brennon commented, "Mom, I just love to sew!"

When it gets closer to the actual day (87 days, in case you were wondering), we'll attach a tag that reads, "Valentine, you're #1 in my book," or something equally earth shattering and profound.  Those kids will feel the love, oh yeah! 

Shelby just pointed out, "Brennon, we could spend the whole day sewing tomorrow, since we don't have school!"  Brennon cheered... and got back to work.  Guess I won't be the one making them after all!  Proud Mom Moment.  I can't wait for December: I get to take two classes with all four of my kids!  We'll learn how to make French Seam pillow cases and tea towels with real button holes.  Giddy!

Two Shoe Day

I've posted before about Mira bringing down Caden's shoes every once in a while.  I have started calling it a Left Shoe Day whenever she brings it down, taking picture to document the days.  It is so interesting to me that it is always the Left shoe.  While we were at the movie on Friday night, Mira decided to make it a Two Shoe Day.  I'd left the Left shoe downstairs (I always take it back upstairs when I put the kids to bed, so it stays down the whole day) and came back to them both downstairs.  I wish I knew for certain that it was a sign that Caden was in our home that day, that that was why she brought it down, not just that she was missing him.  For now, we'll just believe that that is why.  What a wonderful thought: Caden back in our home, enjoying time with the family.  Glorious.

Finally!

Many months ago I wrote about a book that changed our family for the better: Wonder.  I knew from the first chapter of the book that I was going to like it, and from the first instant I heard it was going to be a movie that I would take my family to see it opening day.  That day is today!  My Grandpa-in-law's family sent us a gift card to "find enjoyment" after Caden's passing and I knew I would save it for Wonder.  The kids and I have been counting down, talking about our excitement every time we thought about it.  Shelby prayed last night, "we're thankful we get to see Wonder tomorrow."  And now it is today!  It feels good to look forward to something.

Update:
The movie was amazing!  The acting was exactly what I saw in my head as I was reading.  It followed the book so well.  I wish I knew it would come out on BluRay for Christmas-- I would buy it for myself!  It is a buyer, for sure.

I could relate in some ways, many times, to the mother.  From the worry that kids were going to make fun of my medical-miracle child (Caden's feeding tube, bald head, weight loss/gain, massive/multiple scars) to many life threatening surgeries and trying to give enough time to all of her children, I found myself really understanding more than she was saying in words.  The part that touched me the most, that really resonated with me, was when she pointed to her heart while speaking to her grieving child, explaining to him that we all have scars on our faces.

"This {meaning her heart} is a map of where we are going.  This {meaning her face} is a map of where we have been."

My face has a few extra, deep lines and wrinkles, formed from many, many hours of worry and crying.  My face imperfections may not be ideal by the world's standards, but I am proud of my map that shows where I have been.  I am a mother that has stood and cheered and fought and advocated (and always will) next to the ones I love.  I am the mother that will worry about her children till the day I die.  I am the mother that will look at her children and see many extraordinary stories worth telling.  My children are a Wonder.

Health Care

I have now clocked approximately 6 hours in the same office (and incidentally, chair) over the last two days.  Aside from Urgent Care, ENT, or flu shot clinics, we haven't really been to our regular doctor in more months years than I care to admit.  We're playing a not-so-fun game of catch-up for our Dirks' family health care.  Dentist is another story, but only because they make the appointments in advance for you.  I wish well-child checkups could be scheduled a year in advance! 

I admit that I don't have the memory I once had.  Some of it can be blamed on fatigue, some on recent happenings (3+ years), some on disinterest, some on being an exhausted mother, and some on age.  Most times I just laugh it off-- "Oh, my {insert applicable excuse} brain...."  *Self-conscious giggle, blush, wink*  But yesterday and today it has caused me anxiety.  And guilt-induced sorrow.

"Is your child allergic to any medications?"

It has been so long since I've had chosen to think about this for anyone other than Caden.  We had to name everything he was allergic to so many times, it became something that he'd automatically answer, "Caden Dirks.  5-15-2001.  Tree nuts and Vancomycin.  No cough, no fever," as soon as we'd sit down at the check-in desk.  But now, I looked at my sons' faces, wracking my brain, sadly thinking, "I do not even know my children anymore."  Health care has once again become a scary thing for me.  All I have known for so long is gone.

It's confusing to wish we still had options that took us back to Seattle Children's when all I ever wished for as we were fighting was to be rid of that place.  I'm not done fighting.  Not really.  I'll never be done fighting.  Tonight, forever, I am missing my son.

*Today is his half-birthday.  He would have been 16 1/2.

Sick

The tree in our front yard is gorgeous.  It gives us a ton of shade, a ton of fun, and a ton of leaves that make our yard look like a yellow sea.  I love that tree!  But it is growing large enough to encroach too much on our home and into the street, so we called to get an estimate to have it pruned.  Since I love it so much, and because it is so big, we need a professional to do it right.  I made the appointment for today at 4:00pm, thinking I had plenty of time after Brennon's asthma prescription refill appointment at 2:20pm.  While still in the room at 3:10pm, without having seen the doctor, I called the tree trimmer to push our appointment back.  I made it home at 4:15pm.  It has been a while since I've spent that much time in a chair, waiting to see a provider.

Since 45 minutes had been shaved from my after-school hours, I felt very rushed to get dinner started, homework checked, and all of those wonderfully mundane chores started.  The tree trimmer happened to show up as I'd just put noodles in boiling water, added freeze-dried hamburger to the sauce, and started the timer.  I was thrown off as I walked out the front door to talk with the trimmer, since I was calling to Keilie to help me finish up dinner, closing the door as I was telling her to watch for burning.  I showed him the front tree, then remembered that we have an apple tree in the backyard that gave only two apples this year, so I talked with him about that tree as well.  By the time he was walking through our gate from the backyard, I was pretty much done with the busy day that I'd had.

"So, you have a sick son?"

Here is where I embarrass myself with how vain cancer has made me, how much my mind is still on cancer.

"Oh, actually, Caden passed away last month."

I barely missed barrelling into his back as he came to an abrupt and complete stop and whipped around to face me.

"Didn't you tell me that you were at a doctor's appointment for your son?"

And it hit me-- he wasn't speaking of the definition of "sick" that I am used to!  In all of the rush, I'd completely forgotten that I'd even been at the doctors'.  I blushed deep, apologizing for making it so awkward.  As he talked with me, apologizing for my loss, telling me he couldn't image losing one of his adult children (or one of his grandchildren), he stumbled over his words while watching the ground.  I wanted to be swallowed up in said ground.  I could not believe what I had done.  I don't know this man.  He does not know me.  Yet I thought he knew our story and was asking about my "sick" kid, the one that has been my whole world as a caregiver, the one that defined sickness forever more in our family.  Everything will forever be compared to cancer, for us.  My poor kids--  Oh, you have pneumonia?  Well, at least it's not cancer...