Because of Him

As we prepare for Easter, I am eternally grateful for all things possible because of Him.

Find some Easter inspiration here!

I Never Saw Blue Like That

I love the words to this song... Thank you my sweet Caleb for teaching me how to see the the world the way I see it now. 

And I never saw blue like that before

Across the sky

Around the world

You've given me all you have and more

And no one else has ever shown me how

To see the world the way I see it now

Oh, I, I never saw blue like that...

When Most I Wink...

"When most I wink, then do my eyes best see."

William Shakespeare

A Peek into Mitchell's Heart

Today Mitchell came home with many of his first grade writing assignments he's worked on this year. 
One of his assignments gave me a peek into his heart. 
This is what he wrote in his sweet first grade spelling:

Something I loved dide.
It was one munth after my berthday.
His name was Calub.
I was 6.
I was at the hospitil.
He dide because he was sik.
Why did that hapin to me?

Something I loved died.  It was one month after my birthday.  His name was Caleb.  I was six.  I was at the hospital.  He died because he was sick.  Why did that happen to me? 

Oh this was tender to my heart...

You can always touch it.

I loved this quote from a book I read recently...

...Much had changed since then.  She'd learned to live within her grief , and then to live beyond it though she could always touch it if she tried...

From Passion Blue by Victoria Strauss

Wink Day: Two Years

It has been two years since Caleb passed away and I've been reflecting on that phrase, "pass away." They remind me that Caleb isn't gone. He is away for a time, and each day we are apart we are also one day closer to being together. Oh how I love him, and Oh how I love the Savior and the healing balm of the atonement.  Though my heart still aches it is gently cradled in His hands.  The raw feelings are softer and my memories are sweet.   

Mitchell recently wrote a letter to Caleb and in it he said, "I can't wait to see you again.  I will cover you in kisses."

I will too.

Caleb's Ninth Birthday

Last week Caleb had his ninth birthday... his second birthday in heaven. 
We like to make his birthday a special day we all look forward to.  Last year we gave each of our boys special trunks so they can have a special place to keep treasures that remind them of their brother.   
Inside their trunks this year the boys found a picture of the Savior with this note on the other side.

To my wonderful brothers,

I wanted you to have a picture of the Savior in your trunk because I know it is through him that we can be together again.

Each time you choose to be

close to Him, you will also feel close to me.

I love you and am so proud of you.

Love, Caleb

Caleb also gives the family something fun to do together.  He knows it's important to continue to make happy memories together.  This year he gave the boys a special coupon to attend a special event that they've been hoping for!

It was a sweet and tender day as we celebrated Caleb and reflected on our sweet memories together.  I know Caleb is close and that he is still being true to his special mission.  As we celebrate another birthday without him here, I know we are also one year closer to being together again.
I love you Caleb.  Forever and ever.

Grief: By Steven Kalas

I found this to be quite insightful...

STEVEN KALAS:

When you lose a child, grieving is a lifelong experience

When our first child is born, a loud voice says, “Runners, take your marks!” We hear the starting gun and the race begins. It’s a race we must win at all cost. We have to win. The competition is called “I’ll race you to the grave.” I’m currently racing three sons. I really want to win.

Not everyone wins.

I’m here at the national meeting of Compassionate Friends, an organization offering support and resources for parents who lose the race. I’m wandering the halls during the “break-out” sessions. In this room are parents whose children died in car accidents. Over there is a room full of parents of murdered children. Parents of cancer victims are at the end of the hall. Miscarriages and stillbirths are grouped together, as are parents who have survived a child’s suicide. And so it goes.

In a few minutes, I’m going to address Compassionate Friends. This is the toughest audience of my life. I mix with the gathering crowd, and a woman from Delaware glances at my name tag. Her name tag has a photo of her deceased son. My name tag is absent photos.

“So … you haven’t … lost anyone,” she says cautiously.

“My three sons are yet alive, if that’s what you’re asking me,” I say gently.

She tries to nod politely, but I can see that I’ve lost credibility in her eyes. She’s wondering who invited this speaker, and what on earth he could ever have to say to her.

My address is titled “The Myth of Getting Over It.” It’s my attempt to answer the driving questions of grieving parents: When will I get over this? How do I get over this?

You don’t get over it. Getting over it is an inappropriate goal. An unreasonable hope. The loss of a child changes you. It changes your marriage. It changes the way birds sing. It changes the way the sun rises and sets. You are forever different.

You don’t want to get over it. Don’t act surprised. As awful a burden as grief is, you know intuitively that it matters, that it is profoundly important to be grieving. Your grief plays a crucial part in staying connected to your child’s life. To give up your grief would mean losing your child yet again. If I had the power to take your grief away, you’d fight me to keep it. Your grief is awful, but it is also holy. And somewhere inside you, you know that.

The goal is not to get over it. The goal is to get on with it.

Profound grief is like being in a stage play wherein suddenly the stagehands push a huge grand piano into the middle of the set. The piano paralyzes the play. It dominates the stage. No matter where you move, it impedes your sight lines, your blocking, your ability to interact with the other players. You keep banging into it, surprised each time that it’s still there. It takes all your concentration to work around it, this at a time when you have little ability or desire to concentrate on anything.

The piano changes everything. The entire play must be rewritten around it.

But over time the piano is pushed to stage left. Then to upper stage left. You are the playwright, and slowly, surely, you begin to find the impetus and wherewithal to stop reacting to the intrusive piano. Instead, you engage it. Instead of writing every scene around the piano, you begin to write the piano into each scene, into the story of your life.

You learn to play that piano. You’re surprised to find that you want to play, that it’s meaningful, even peaceful to play it. At first your songs are filled with pain, bitterness, even despair. But later you find your songs contain beauty, peace, a greater capacity for love and compassion. You and grief — together — begin to compose hope. Who’da thought?

Your grief becomes an intimate treasure, though the spaces between the grief lengthen. You no longer need to play the piano every day, or even every month. But later, when you’re 84, staring out your kitchen window on a random Tuesday morning, you welcome the sigh, the tears, the wistful pain that moves through your heart and reminds you that your child’s life mattered.

You wipe the dust off the piano and sit down to play.

Copyright: Las Vegas Review-Journal

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling and Wellness Center in Las Vegas. Contact him atskalas@reviewjournal.com.

Christmas Eve

One of my favorite Christmas Eve traditions is lighting candles for Caleb.  It is tender and sweet to drive through the cemetery and to see the soft light flickering for so many loved ones.  It is our quiet way to remember why we celebrate and why the humble birth our of our Savior means so very much.

Merry Christmas my sweet boy.  We missed putting on your angel wings in our family nativity this year. 
 I know you were near and that you continue to sing His praises in wonderful ways.

The Sweetest Room in the House

Last night when I was snuggling Mitchell he whispered, "Mom, which room in our house is the most spiritual?"  I responded, "What do you think?" He replied, "Caleb's room, that's why I sleep in here.  It just has such a peaceful feeling..."

tender.

An Aloha Wink!

Aloha!

Fall Memories

Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief. – Marcus Tullius Cicero

The Power of Extended Family

My sister Arianne and I are guest posting on the blog Chocolate on my Cranium today.  She is hosting a wonderful "Celebrate the Family Series!"  Click here to read our thoughts on the power of extended family.

A wink from Yuba Lake

A couple of weeks ago we went with my brother Jacob and his family to Yuba Lake! It ended up being too stormy to take his boat out, but the kids loved playing on the beach for the afternoon!

A wink from Lake Cocolalla

We just spent a week in Washington with our Moody family and had a wonderful time!  We spent 3 days at Lake Cocolalla and loved every minute!

We watched bald eagles soar in the sky

and we kayaked to our hearts content.

Josh hunted for rocks 

and Matthew snorkeled non stop!

There was fishing, fireworks, games and s'mores... 

We couldn't have asked for a better week!

(you can see more of our adventure on our family blog!)

A Wink From the Grand Canyon

Thank you friends!  We loved your Grand Canyon Wink!

A Washington Wink

Thanks for the wink from Washington Chris and Missy! 

We love you!

BYU Women's Conference

This year I was invited to be a presenter at BYU women's conference. The topic I was assigned was how to have less contention in our homes. I chose to focus on the power of our presence and am so thankful for experiences I had with Caleb that I was able to share in my presentation.  By the worlds standards Caleb wasn't able to do anything... but his presence was full of love and light. He taught me that one person's presence can be a powerful influence...

Some of my favorite memories of the day:

* When I picked up my mom, she gave me a surprise my sister Ashley had left in her fridge.    Ashley, her husband and mother in law had made me a corsage with a lily in it.  They also made one for Caleb.  On the card that was attached it said one word.  "Wink."
What a perfect way to wish me luck!

* I loved spending the day on campus with my mom.  We ate yummy Costa Vida Salads for lunch then got double scoop ice cream cones for dinner (with chocolate covered strawberries for dessert!)

* It tickled my heart to see my sweet husband and Dad sitting front and center in front in a room full of hundreds of women.  Now if you know my dad, driving through construction, finding parking on campus, and finding your way through a crowd of of women says I. Love. You.

*  I loved seeing the faces of dear friends... and meeting new ones too!

Memorial Day

This year for Memorial Day weekend we visited Caleb's grave on Sunday evening.  I liked being there when it wasn't quite so busy.  We enjoyed sitting under the tree and talking about the things we loved and remembered about our Caleb.  Last memorial day was so tender for me...this one was softer...it was a sweet time to fill our hearts with remembering. 

We spent Sunday night at my parents cabin and on Monday enjoyed sleeping in, going on a hike and having a yummy barbecue.  

When Mitchell got tired on our hike I taught him the magic way to get more hiking energy.  You find a pine needle, break it in half then take a big sniff and it fills you with energy.  Mitchell filled his pocket with pine needles and every time he would break one and sniff, he'd take off at full speed!  "Thanks for teaching me about the magic" he said, as we walked up the path toward the cabin.  

Mitchell was also convinced he uncovered a Big Foot skeleton and footprints!  As we walked back to the cabin he about had a heart attack when my dad jumped around a corner pretending to be big foot!  

I am thankful for sweet, tender and funny memories this memorial day.

Mother's Day

In our Faith we have missionaries all over the world sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.  In the two years they are gone from their families, they get to call home on Christmas and Mother's day.  

This Mother's day I found myself wishing my missionary in heaven was able to call home.  I would love to hear about his experiences, those who he is teaching, and what his area is like.  

We visited Caleb's grave that evening, and I know that he was close.  In those moments when I miss him beyond description a quote from a recent article comes to mind.  

 "Grief is the natural by-product of love.  One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death.  The only way to avoid grief would be not to experience the love, and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning."  

 from the article,"The Refining Fire of Grief"

I am so thankful for the privilege of loving so deeply. 

That ache in my heart is a sacred thing to carry...

Being the mother of Caleb and his brothers fills my heart to overflowing.  Knowing they are mine forever is the most meaningful mother's day gift I could ever receive.