Sunday, January 11, 2015

730 days

2 years ago, we were sitting in Kenton's hospital room.  
The 4 of us.  
Our forever family.

Blinds pulled.  
Silent except for the sound of sniffles and tissues wiping tears.

We held on to each other, prayerful, hurting, as we faced a decision that had blind-sided us.  Knocked our feet out from under us.

The facts were sprawled out in front of us, like barbs on a wire fence.  
Each fact tearing at us, leaving us wounded. 

Just a few hours later, our Bishopric would arrive.  
We would talk.  
We would cry.  
We would continue to hold on to each other.  

And then we would know.

After individual priesthood blessings.  
After the hours of prayer and tears.  

We would know.

And just like that.  Decision made.  Not lightly.  Not in a moment of panic or despair.  

But in a moment in that hospital room that was full of angels. We felt them there. Holding us in our moments of heartache and despair.  Sadness and heartbreak. We felt familiar angels. Loved ones gone before sent to comfort. And to grieve with us.

In a moment that was filled with both peace and anguish, we would know.  

We would nod as Kenton looked at each of us, tears spilling out onto his cheeks, telling us, "We stop treatment."

It was a moment pressed into our hearts by a loving Father in Heaven letting us know that Kenton's earthly mission was nearing completion.  That he had served well. Faithfully. Bravely.

There were so many more tears.  
We knew what that decision meant.  

It meant signing DNR papers.  
It meant talking about things like hospice. 

And funerals.

And it meant talking about things like eternal families. 
Heavenly Father. 
The Plan of Salvation. 

How I wish our family been granted an old-man life span for our Kenton. 

Some day this will all make sense.  
Today is not that day.

2 years ago.  
730 days.
It feels like only yesterday.  

And yet, it feels like forever.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

[insert kicking, screaming, weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth]

We're so not ready for the break to be over.

And January is such a hard month anyway....

That's all.

Saturday, January 3, 2015

[tick, tock, tick, tock...]

...that's the sound in my head.  Tick.Tock.Tick.Tock.

Counting down the minutes until we go back to reality again.  
School. Work. Piano. Violin. Alarms. Homework. Schedules.

I've so enjoyed being home. 
Cooking. Cleaning. Crafting. Resting. Reading. Baking. Playing.

We really haven't done anything the whole break.
And it's been so nice.

Today we went to the grocery store.
Yay, us.  ;)

On a side note, other than 1 lunch from McD's for Grammy, Goose, and I, and 1 lunch from McD's for Grammy and Goose while Luke and I had El Toro, we have eaten at home every single meal.  That has to be a new record.  
It's been so nice.
Today we did buy fried chicken for Grammy and Goose.  Luke and I had a sandwich at home while putting away the groceries.
I've done another 3 in 30 - working in the craft room today.

My desk is actually almost functional.
My newest stamps are waiting in a basket to be used.
I should do that tonight.

I'm going to go shape the bread for dinner.
And maybe craft.

Grammy and Goose have made about a hundred twenty one little perler bead projects this week.  They're having lots of fun.

Something about going back to a schedule pulls at me.
Equal  parts relief and anxiety.

Today has been hard.
2 years ago today, Kenton came home.  HOME.

2 days later he was headed back to PCMC.
19 days later, he was gone.

The month of January is bleak.

We'll survive.

Friday, January 2, 2015

[day 2 of 2015]

The New Year's Eve celebrations and traditions just about did me in.  I think I spent as much time hiding in the bathroom as I did actually celebrating.  I just kept thinking, "Stupid holidays.  Stupid traditions."  As much as I wanted to be cheerful and happy and positive, I just couldn't beat down the anxiety and heartache for very long at any given time.  

In fact, I would have just as soon climbed into bed around 9 and skipped the whole ringing in the new year altogether.

Does that make me a bad mom? Perhaps.  

We started with fireworks at the cemetery to celebrate with Kenton.  
It was cold.  
I know he appreciated the effort and the fireworks.

Then we watched a movie and made bags.  Luke didn't want to make shirts again this year.  That was our Kenton thing.  I think he was hurting too much this year too.  

At 9 we played Operation and the new game McKayslin got for her birthday from Christiansens.  

At 10:30 we watched a movie.  

At midnight we lit fireworks here at home and sprayed silly string and had sprinkle pancakes.  
And went to bed.

I'm sure the whole evening was equal parts successful and crappy for McKayslin.  
I wish I could do better.

In trying to figure out just why this holiday was so much harder than Christmas even, the only thing I could come up with is that when 2015 started, that would be our 2nd full year starting without our boy.  I don't think that makes sense to anyone else.  Most of the time nothing I think even makes sense to me.


2015 came.  
We started another whole year without our Kenton.

And in 20 days we will recognize Kenton's angel day.  
Yet another painful day of reminders of all of the things we won't get to do with our Kenton.  A reminder that we won't get to make any new memories.  Or take any new pictures.  Or hear that laugh.  See that smile.  Get those hugs.  

We always miss him.  
Some days we just miss him harder than others.

Yesterday was an interesting day.  We're all a bit on edge.  
Tired. Worn down.
Ready to return to a routine.

Our house feels claustrophobic. 
I decided to take the ©CleanMama #clutterfree30 challenge.  

I didn't tell Luke.  I just started cleaning out a cupboard (yesterday's challenge was 3 bags of clutter gathered in 30 minutes).  

In that one cupboard I found a full garbage can full of expired hot chocolate (like 2009 expired), medicine, and cans of food.  Luke jumped right in to help, and together we cleared 7 of the 8 cupboards on the east side of the kitchen.  3 garbage cans full and a big box to donate.  

We kept going.  
By the end of the day (today's challenge is actually the pantry clean sweep, but we did it together yesterday), we had cleaned the kitchen, done some organization, and cleaned out the whole downstairs pantry.

It was fun working together and the results were awesome.
What wasn't awesome was the amount of food that had to be thrown away.
Lessons are sometimes pretty expensive.

With each bag out of the house, I felt a little lighter, a little better.  
Last night I was that good kind of exhausted that comes from working really hard and getting something finished.

Today I start on my craft room.
It's kind of the crap room right now.  
The holding pen for the wayward stuff that doesn't have a home.
One day it will be a dedicated craft room.  
That day won't be tomorrow.
Or even the next day.
It might not even be next week.
But it will happen.

First, the Sparky dog needs a bath and a haircut.

We'll see how the day goes from there.

Praying that day 2 of 2015 leaves me feeling that same good kind of exhausted as day 1 did.  

Because day 365 of 2014 just really hurt...