Summer

Summer was always my favorite season with Mom. It seemed it was a time meant just for us! If you know either of us well at all, you know that it's the only time we're warm. We both adore the sun and the green and the flowers. And the fresh fruit!
The days seemed lazy and laid back, and yet they were so very full. They started with the two of us walking over to the track for a jog at about the same time as the sun was rising. She was patient with my knee; I have a hard time running on hard surfaces. I was patient with her slower pace. We had a lot of good conversations during those early morning walk/jogs. And of course, we admired the sunrise. Because nothing of beauty ever escaped Mom's notice.
Then we'd head home for breakfast and to teach our piano lessons. Sometimes later in the morning, we'd grab racquets and balls and head to the tennis courts. I wasn't ever very good, but I did learn how to hit the ball to the side of the court that she wasn't on and enjoyed watching her run back and forth to return the balls I hit.
After that we generally went our separate directions as far as schedule went. But I relished in those mornings. They were full of such happiness and joy! What I wouldn't give to share just one more of those mornings with her!

Angel

I tried and tried to write a post that would do justice to my amazing momma.  But this was impossible to do in just one post, so I turned to my usual solution.  Music!  I sang this song in Relief Society on Mothers' Day about five years ago.  I believe it was the first time (and one of the only times) that I've cried when singing.  I didn't realize then just how much this song would come to mean to me.  It represents everything that I believe in!  God sent an angel to watch over me, and she will never stop doing just that!  She will always love me and look after me.  I have felt her in my life more times than I could have ever imagined I would.  She's been in the flowers, the scriptures, the warm sunshine, and beautiful music.  She lives on through everything that she taught me and through the many ways that I am so like her.  I love her forever and always.  I am so grateful for my guardian angel on a daily basis.  I love you, Momma!

Things my momma always said

Everyone can relate to this.  Our parents have those certain sayings that only they seem to say.  Often they are met by eye-rolls from the children they are directed at.   But despite this fact, we learn incredibly valuable lessons from each and every one of them. 

Ah the classic momma saying.  "Don't give up what you want most for what you want now" was something I heard probably about once a week.  I don't know if that's how it was with all my siblings, or if she just knew how often I would need to hear this.  Yes, at the time it annoyed me.  But now I am so grateful to have been taught this!  Any time this phrase comes to mind, I know Mom is up there telling me to take a second look at my goals and the steps I'm taking to get there.

Every time I had a problem that I was freaking out about, I heard this at least once.  And it was probably the most annoying thing in the world.  Little did I know, however, that I was learning not to sweat the small stuff, something I've never been any good at.  Mom must have recognized this fault in me and always tried to help me find a way to calm down when freaking out was not necessary.  Which, she taught me, it never is.  I'll be working on this one my entire life!  But she definitely gave me a head start when I was younger.

Here's another one I heard while I was stressed about things.  This one annoyed me too, but it is such an important lesson to learn!  Mom taught me to love, and to love unconditionally.  She taught that love is the best way to solve any problem and that anger only creates more problems.  She showed me that when someone hurt you or made life difficult for you, you don't retaliate.  You kill them with kindness.  You find a way to serve them.  I've learned that, not only does this act help me to forgive the wrong-doer, it also takes away some of the stress and hurt that they caused.

After Sister Dalton's talk on doing hard things, this became Mom's moto.  We had plaques with this phrase on it in several places throughout the house.  She even wrote a song about it.  I think if Mom could have only left me with one message, it would have been that I can do anything I set my mind to.  Nothing is too difficult or out of reach.  Anything can be done with a bit of hard work.

Most importantly, my momma taught me to look at the big picture.  This life is far from easy.  But, in the end it will all be worth it!  When I can look up at my Heavenly Father and know he is proud of me, when I can once again kiss my mom on the cheek and tell her I love her, I know that I will look back on the tough times I had here on earth and say, "It really was worth it!"  I will always be grateful to have been raised in a home where the gospel was not only the focus, but the way of life.  

Tangled

Tangled came out the winter before Mom was diagnosed.  I saw it first and raved to her about how darling it was.  She took the grandkids to see it soon after that and absolutely loved it!  (Who wouldn't?)

I was home one Friday night with cancelled plans and nothing to do.  Dad was out of town, I think, and due to the tumor, Mom's brain wasn't functioning as it once had.  So I took it upon myself to entertain her!  The movie had just barely come out on DVD and I was dying to see it again.  I hopped in the car, ran to Smith's and picked up a copy.  We spent the night watching it together :)  

She pointed out the wonderful similarities between the plot and our Heavenly Father's plan.  He desires that we look to the light and let it lead us back home. He hopes that the light will teach us our true identity... that we are sons and daughters of a King.  But he knows the journey won't be easy for us.  We will face wicked witches who do everything to keep us from learning who we are and people trying to steal our crown.  But she also pointed out that Repunzel went through the whole thing with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.  She changed the world around her along the way.  

I'm so grateful for canceled plans, and a mother who taught me so many wonderful things!

My side of the story...

I realized that I haven't really ever shared our family's story from my perspective, and though this might be an appropriate place to do so.  A lot of the details of the last year are blurred by pain, shock, and denial.  My timeline is a little hazy, so things may be out of order.  Accuracy isn't really what I'm going for here.
Just over a year ago, Mom started to be very forgetful.  It seemed to come on very suddenly and was very scary.  I am ashamed, now, to admit that I often got frustrated with her.  I remember looking for something one day for about a half an hour and not being able to find it.  About every five minutes, Mom would ask what I was looking for.  By the fourth time, I wasn't so patient with her.  Then there were days where I would come home with 15 minutes to gather my things and be out the door for a rehearsal or performance, and she would have picked things up in my room and put them who knew where.  I hope that one day I will be able to apologize for my frustration and impatience.
Mom had an MRI done the first week of April.  That's when they found the tumor.  I refused to freak out about it until I knew if it was cancerous or not.  I think I was in denial.  I was in the kitchen when Mom came home from the doctor a few days later.  I looked up and saw tears streaming down her face.  I asked her what was wrong.  She kind of sighed and said, "Oh, it's just cancer."  I hugged her and we sobbed together.  I know they told me the details of the tumor, it's official name, what stage it was in, how big it was, stuff like that.  The pain, shock, and confusion I was feeling blocked all that out.  The one thing I know no one told me was her prognosis.  That wasn't discussed until much much later.  At least not with me.  The day I found out my mom had a brain tumor was by far the worst day of my life.  The bishop and stake president came and gave us all blessings.  During Mom's blessing, I listened specifically for him to say that she would be cured of the cancer.  But he never did.  I think I knew at that point that we didn't have much time left with her.
The following weeks were difficult.  She was traveling to Salt Lake daily for radiation treatments.  I took over the housework and the cooking.  I was very anal about absolutely everything.  This really isn't that rare for me, but this was pretty intense.  I would freak out when people brought dinners.  I still can't really explain why, it just bugged me.  I couldn't control the downward spiral my world was taking, but I could control what food got placed on the table.  I am grateful for that time, though, because I learned a lot about cooking.  Mom would sit at the counter as I cooked and try to answer my questions.  She usually could.
Pretty soon, her sodium levels dropped.  In 24 hours she went from being able to go on evening walks with my dad to barely being able to get out of bed.  She became so frail and sick and so very confused.  It was so difficult watching my dad help her walk to and from the bathroom and try to get her to eat.  Dad resisted taking her to the hospital, but I think that's what ended up happening.  She returned to her previous level of health.
Some of the people that visited frustrated me too.  They would come and start talking to her and then start crying, and she ended up comforting them.  Or there were people that came and asked her for advice.  The poor woman could barely find things in her own kitchen, and people expected her to be able to give advice for hours.  She was always tired after people came to visit.  Socializing takes a lot of effort from your brain, and that made it difficult for her.  But she was still always sweet, understanding, and caring towards those that entered our home.
I was glad when summer came and I could spend my days at home.  I went on trek in July.  Not only did trek seem daunting, but I was nervous to be gone for that long.  I thought of her a lot as I walked.  And worried.  And prayed.  I was glad I took big sun glasses, because I also did a lot of crying.  I was grateful to get off the bus at the end of the week and see her waiting for me.
Soon after trek, Dad and I headed off to New York with Nessa for a shortened version of a trip Mom had started planning the previous fall.  We saw the sights of New York, including Wicked, of course, and then headed to DC for some sight seeing there.  My sisters took care of Mom while we were gone.  The following week, Dad had meetings in Virginia.  I stayed with Mom during that week.  My most vivid memories come from that week.  We started out the week very well, going to the 24th of July parade with Becky's family and to lunch with Uncle Byron and Aunt Joan.  She deteriorated quickly, though, as her sodium levels decreased again.  Rachelle came to help me take care of Mom one day and called the doctor. He came to see how she was doing and suggested we take her to the hospital.  Within moments an ambulance was there.  And so were the neighbors.  That was another frustrating thing in this experience.  We seemed to have absolutely no privacy and no space.  And we did some comforting of other people ourselves.

This was taken while Mom was at Huntsman.
It was Rachelle's idea.  She told Mom to smile, which
obviously worked.  I think Mom forgot she
was smiling, though, because that smile stayed
on her face for quite a while after the picture.
It was so great to see her smile!

Dad came home from his business trip a day early so he could be with Mom.  We transfered her from MacKay Dee to the Huntsman Cancer Institute.  It was there that we had to make incredibly difficult decisions.  We had to choose between continuing treatments and letting her go.  The chemo and radiation we had been attempting previously were not working as the doctors had hoped they would.  We decided to try one last treatment.  The next day, we moved her to a care center here in Ogden.  For a few days following the treatment, she seemed to improve.  She was more aware of her surroundings and was able to laugh and joke with us.  She went downhill after that, though.  We each spent hours helping her walk the halls of the care center.  If one of us was there, she was decently happy.  Otherwise she was sad.
She spent the last few weeks of her life at home.  We took turns taking care of her and talking to her.  And, for the first little bit, helping her walk around the house.  I helped her walk to the front room one morning and played and sang for her.  My only regret during this time is that I never really said goodbye to her.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  But I think she understood that.
A few days after my senior year started, I woke up about 11:30 with terrible cramps.  I got up and took painkillers, soaked in the tub for a bit and then moved to the tv room where I put on Anne of Green Gables and drifted off to sleep.  At 2:00 AM on August 26, my Dad woke me to tell me that my sweet momma had passed away.  My siblings came and spent the wee hours of the morning together.  We cried a little, but mostly we enjoyed each other's company.  We joked and laughed as we looked through scrapbooks and planned for the funeral.  I'm grateful that she passed in the middle of the night, because it gave us a chance to have some privacy and some time as just a family.  Those were probably some of the most peaceful hours of the whole ordeal.  At one point, just after everyone had arrived, we'd been joking and laughing a little and we looked over at Mom.  The corners of her mouth seemed to have turned up into a small smile.  It made each of us smile, knowing that she must have been looking down on us with a smile on her face too.

Sunday Evenings

I've thought a lot about Mom today.  I usually do on Sunday; that's what makes Sundays so hard.  During the week, Mom would get really busy.  She was always running around doing amazing things for people and my time with her was often limited.  That's not to say that she didn't take care of my dad and me.  The house was always spotless and dinner was on the table, no matter how busy the day had been.  I was usually busy too with music lessons and school, so there was not much quality time for my mom and I.
However, Sunday evenings were sacred for us.  It was our time to do what we loved.  To make music.  She would sit at the piano and I would grab my violin.  We'd play whatever I'd been working on, and maybe a few old songs.  Eventually I'd turn to her and say, "Mom, can we sing now?"  If she felt I'd done enough violin, she'd allow me to move on to my true passion.  This was my time to try singing absolutely anything.  I could put anything in front of her, and she could play it nearly perfectly.  Oh how I cherished those times!
If I could have one more day with her, I'd probably want to spend at least half of it this way.  It's not something we could do the last few months of her life, because playing became very difficult for her.  That was so frustrating for her!  But I will always look back to the times we spent at the piano as ours.  Just me, my mom, and our music.      

Musicals

This week, Dad and I started rehearsing for our very first show together!  I remember telling Mom once that I absolutely love Joseph and that one day, I'm going to play the Narrator.  She said, "You'd have to do a lot of memorizing!"  I responded, "No I wouldn't, I already know it all!"

It would be absolutely impossible to go through the audition process without thinking of Mom.  She always accompanied me and helped calm my nerves.  It will be even harder when the show starts and I don't see her face in the crowd.

Besides just helping me at auditions, Mom was always willing to do whatever needed to be done to get the show on the road.  She spent eons sewing costumes.  She also stuck with us through dress rehearsals so she would be on hand if anything needed fixing.  I remember her running to the store right before shows started to pick something up last minute.

She also spent hours and hours helping me with my hair.  When I was in Beauty and the Beast, she spent every night before a performance putting curlers in my hair.  With twenty six shows, that really adds up!  During Oklahoma! she came with me on my crazy pre-show errands, helping me pick out fake hair, eyelashes, and the right color of lipstick.  She never was a shopper, but she didn't seem to mind coming with me on these trips.  

Above all, she supported my crazy love for musical theater.  She always encouraged me to pursue my passion and to do it in a way that would make her proud.  Any time I was frustrated with a situation, she did everything in her power to make it easier for me.  This included offering to be a producer, helping me with dancing, and simply sitting down to talk with a director that needed some help.  I love her for all the hours I know she spent, and all the hours I don't know about.