Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Halloween Catch Up

With Marianne passing away on October 29, Halloween was a difficult holiday this year.  We went through  the motions...carving pumpkins, costumes, trick or treating and candy.  The good thing about children is they force you to just keep going even when you don't feel like it.  Life just has to go on and for that I am grateful.  I didn't take any pictures on Halloween night, but luckily we had gone to a Halloween party at church the weekend before and got some cute pictures of our fearsome dragon trainer and our darling princess.














Thursday, November 10, 2011

Celebrating My Dear Sister's Life



I sit here at my computer, just wondering where to even begin.   It's hard to put such deep and tender emotions and feelings into words, but I will do my best.  I don't have any pictures from the weekend.  We brought our camera, but taking pictures was the farthest thing from my mind.  Luckily, a photographer was taking pictures and someday I will get those pictures I'm sure, although I have some pictures in my mind that I know will never be erased.  Here are a few of them....
  • Watching my mom and Marianne's husband, Mike walk arm in arm behind Marianne's casket as we walked into the chapel and thinking how fitting that was since they were the two who so lovingly cared for her during her final months.
  • Standing in the bitter cold wind at the graveside service, wrapping my arms around my nephew Brigham so tightly to not only keep him warm, but let him now how much I loved him.  I wiped his tears from his cold face as we listened to the bagpiper play "Come Thou Fount of every Blessing" as Marianne's casket was carried to her final resting place.
  • Feeling my sister's arms clutched so tightly around me as we watched my mom make the final adjustments and tell Marianne goodbye before they closed the casket.  Feeling so much love for my sister, Alison as we cried so hard together at that moment and  how comforting it was knowing that  someone else knew exactly what I was feeling.  Also, looking over at my brothers at that moment and seeing they were doing the same thing. 
  • Riding in the limo to the cemetery with Mike, my siblings, their spouses and the handful of nieces and nephews who were old enough to attend the funeral and feeling such an overwhelming feeling of love for my family.  We talked about the funeral, the special words that were spoken and even managed to find a few things to laugh about, which is never hard to do when we're all together.   Amidst the sadness, we still found joy in being together and it felt really good...like maybe life could really go on, somehow.
  • Playing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" with my siblings at the funeral and feeling so much comfort as we blended our instruments together as a testimony that...Yes, our Redeemer does live and we know that Marianne lives too.  As we played this song together I felt such a sweet feeling of peace. 
  • Speaking at Marianne's funeral and seeing the chapel full of people who shared my love for Marianne and being able to read Marianne's testimony of the Savior to them. It felt good being able to read Marianne's own words and sharing with people what I knew she would want to say to them if she were still alive.  Here is the excerpt from my talk that was such a priviledge to share, even though it was difficult....
"Marianne and I sent each other daily e-mails during the past two years and I was always amazed at her incredible attitude as she faced this tremendous trial.  I would like to share with you an excerpt from an e-mail Marianne sent to me in August of 2009, as she was just beginning her chemo treatments again and had just learned of her terminal diagnosis 2 months prior….

"Here it is 12:24 a.m. my time. Everyone is asleep and I have been feeling sick all day and now I am hungry. So I am eating cottage cheese, applesauce and a glass of milk, just hoping it will stay down. Chemo is so awful. I felt great yesterday and today I cried when I left chemo because I already felt so lousy. Mike and Mom just keep reminding me that I will feel better again soon and Dad says he would trade places with me in a heartbeat.

 I have some great talks with my Heavenly Father during these late night times. He is always awake and knows what I am feeling. I sometimes have mini melt-downs about what I have to endure and also the fact that I don't want to die. He is always there to comfort me with peace and let me know that it is His plan for me and it will be OK. I am so grateful to have the knowledge of the Atonement in my life. It has only been in the past few years, since my knee injury, that it has come to mean so much more than just repentance and correcting mistakes. Before that I felt so much mercy, forgiveness and love when repenting. I still feel that when I repent, but I also feel so much comfort, peace, understanding, and incredible love when I lean to my Savior and the Atonement through my physical trials. He knows how yucky I feel, the sadness of leaving loved ones, and all the emotions that hit me each day. I believe He also feels the incredible joys I feel when I have a good day, when I get to see my family, and when I spend good quality time doing something for me or for others. We are so truly blessed.” 

I was expecting the grief.  I knew there would be tears and heartache, but what I wasn't expecting was the overwhelming LOVE I felt...love from Heavenly Father, love from Marianne and so much love poured out from everyone around me.

The grief is still present and hits me at random times.  Alison and I found ourselves at symphony practice on Monday night, crying our eyes out in the hallway as we were rehearsing the slow movement of Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony.  The melody was just too sad to hear, let alone play.  I feel like Marianne took a little piece of my heart with her because there's a little hole there now.  I  know it will fade as the days and years go by, but will never entirely go away...but I wouldn't want it to, because that would mean I had forgotten her and the special place she had in my life.




Marianne gave me this little angel last Christmas when I went to visit her.  The little tag says, "No matter where I am, I will love you forever.  Love, Marianne."  I cried so hard when I opened it, but I cried even harder when I read it 3 nights ago when I came home from Utah.  I know my sister does still love me, because I felt her love all weekend.  I know that she is still involved in my life even though I can no longer see her and I know that someday I will be able to see her again...and what a sweet reunion it will be!!!