[July 23, 2013]

July 23, 2013
26 weeks

Good morning my handsome boy!

Today is Uncle Darrell's birthday.  I bet you guys have something pretty fun planned!  Just behave yourselves!  ;)

6 months have passed since we last held your hand, kissed your cheeks, heard your voice, and felt your hugs.  In some ways it feels like the time has gone by so quickly and yet in others it feels as if time crawls by at an unbearably slow pace.  We miss you so much!  Sometimes I just go in your room and stand there, looking at your books, your toys, your clothes, and I wonder how in the world we keep going day after day.  

A few weeks ago the "5 minute Friday" prompt was in between. I wrote this in response to that.  I haven't shared it except with my fellow moms of cancer fighting cuties.  Yet, for some reason, I feel that it needs to be shared today.

In between. That place where your arms ache to hold all of your babies. Where your friends don't know what to say or how to help, so sometimes, they choose to say nothing. Those days in between feeling like you might almost have recovered a tiny piece of your heart only to discover that, nope, it's still gone. And that hurt is the most physical and emotional pain imaginable. Those moments in between the breakdown and the breathing where your chest is tight and your mind is numb and there is no color. In between needing help on every level and needing to be helpful. But no one understands. Or asks you to help. Thinking that in your in between you don't have enough inside yourself. But not giving you that choice. That in between that is a parent's worst nightmare. And it's the hardest thing you've ever done. And all you want is to feel normal again. Whole. Unbroken. Trusted. Needed. And loved.

We are living that worst nightmare.  Our nightmare began as a bad dream 13 months ago.

Over the past 13 months we've had acquaintances become friends.  And friends become acquaintances.  We understand both.  And harbor no ill feelings.  Sometimes being close to something that scares you to the core is just not possible.  To maintain your own sanity, you have to distance yourself.

We're still in that in between.  I think we will be for a long time.  One doesn't just get over something like this.  Things don't get better.  They get different.  Bishop often reminds us that we're living on a higher plane of understanding and asks us to continue to be patient with those that are striving to understand and love us anyway. 

Mrs. Rice sent us the nicest card in remembrance of you, knowing how hard yesterday was going to be with that 6 month mark.  She shared her favorite memory of you - when you found that joke in 5th grade about one of the world wars and hurried to share it with her because you knew she'd love it also, and the two of you stood in the hall just laughing.  It makes my heart smile when our friends share memories of you.  

The flowers that Cia sent us for your birthday are still bright and beautiful sitting in the middle of the kitchen table.  Yellow and white daisies.  Your other favorite flowers and in your favorite colors.

Mama Locco brought cookies when she brought Goosey home last night.  Frosted sugar cookies with "TK" colored sprinkles.

All things that are seemingly so small but bring such comfort.

Sunday I was called and set apart as a team teacher in the Gospel Essentials class.  Bishop apologized that this wasn't a "limelight" type calling.  What he probably doesn't realize is that it IS an answer to my daily pleading to be needed, to be able to serve.  As he set me apart, there were several points in the blessing that specifically mentioned you.  My most favorite phrase was, "And Kenton will be there with that trademark smile, that one that brought us through so much, spurring you on..."

I think I'm most excited about this calling because it is exactly what you would want me to be doing and I know you'll be helping me.  Is this the "big thing" you were talking about a few weeks ago?  I think, perhaps, it is.  

Walk with me, son.  
Teach me what you've already learned.  
Help me be brave.

I wanted to share with you a few things that were posted on Facebook yesterday, the 6 month mark of your passing 
- 
From my cousin Theresa: I was reminded again this week of the hastening of the work and the need for valiant servants. I was reminded of how the work is going on both sides of the veil. I was impressed by the smile of pure joy on both the repentant investigator and the missionary who was the conduit for the spirit. Kenton 's name is synonymous with valiant. May your heart be lifted as the day goes on and you are reminded of the joys of being the mother of one so very prized.

Our sweet friend Betty wrote: They lowered the missionary age to 18 for everyone else, but Kenton's is even lower. He's doing his great work there just like he did here. 

And from cousin Shana: Kenton is a stripling warrior, for sure. Valiant and never doubting because his mother taught him so well about faith in every footstep. I love you deb, grateful for all you are and how your live. My prayers continue for your family, that you'll have the comfort and peace you need to face this mortal journey with courage and a smile as you feel Heavenly Fathers arms as well as Kenton's, around you daily.

This is the work I get to share with you in my new calling.  

We've been blessed in so many ways.  People reached out to us because of your great example and friendship.  We really are trying to be the kind of example and friend that came so naturally and easily to you.  Thank you for giving us that goal, and for teaching McKayslin to be that same way.  

We love you son.
Miss you.

Love you LOVE YOU!
Love,
Mom