Replaying the pictures in my mind....

Over many days that have turned into weeks, I keep playing pictures of Rick over and over in my mind. Days where there has been much sunshine and happiness and some where were have experienced emotional storms keep playing and replaying in my mind as if to change something that will help me understand the emotions that churn inside me and in our family.

Some that seem to stick:

When Rick and Jakie said good-bye to their Dad and wonderful Grandpa several weeks before we too said goodbye.

Rick's visits with his friends and neighbors over the last few weeks of his life, giving an experience not to be forgotten.

Family gatherings where the brothers talk for hours

Brothers and sisters at his bedside

Visiting with the young men who came as priesthood holders to bless the sacrament for him, he still taught them with his love and gratitude for them, as he had done in previous years.

The helplessness on all of our faces as we faced the reality of our place, as Rick progressed.

His strength in passing along his message to ward members on Easter Sunday...the atonement being a major theme, as it always found its way to his lessons, his gentle testimony shining through.

Jakie's innocent acceptance that Grandpa is now living with Heavenly Father...but he slips from time to time and wants to talk to Grandpa on the phone....I am sure Grandpa would love to talk to him.

The look on Rick's face when he heard the voices of Jake, Rick and Sarah for the last time...softening with his love for them.

Sitting in the recliner with Jake reading Orange Monster or If I Obey....

Playing Cub Scouts with Jakie

Pensiveness as he realized that time was getting short.

Final Priesthood blessings

And, although I was not there, in my mind's eye I see him standing in the Kirtland temple singing "The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning..."

Or enjoying peaceful music as he looked toward heaven, maybe there was more to see and hear for him.

Or telling me, from his vantage point, that my face looked pretty today...

Teasing one of the little great nephews/nieces or checking in with their mom or dad..caring and loving.

And the list goes on and on and on....may the memory always be sweet and clear and comforting.

The last three weeks have been a blur in many ways. As we experienced the passing of our Husband, Father and Friend, we were unprepared for the total emotion of it all. We have determined that no matter how much we think we are prepared, it becomes new and unplowed ground when those moments arrive.

The day of Rick's passing was quiet in many ways. It began with visits from his mother and siblings who were on their way to a family reunion, offering hugs and tender words of love, knowing it may be the last time they would speak to him during this mortal existence. A close cousin dropped by on his way as well, Rick wa.s able to say "questionnaire"...wondering what the content of that was for the reunion...he knew of the spirited discussion that these questions always brought. Ron left a copy that we later read.

The day then became more quiet, Cam and I spent time with Rick that morning. Rick was a little restless and really wanted to stand up, I thought that maybe he was so tired of the bed that he wanted some relief from laying down. Now, I look back and wonder if he wanted to stand in reverence to those who would greet him as he passed to the other side of the veil.

When I came down that morning, although he was having difficulty putting sentences together, he told me, "Your face is pretty today." Probably the last compliment I'l have of that nature from my best cheerleader.

We read, we listened to beautiful music and he was quiet and contemplative. He seemed to be between here and there, sliding back and forth on the notes of the music he loved. I talked, he listened.

His physical body was giving up, when it became clear, I'll not forget the despair in Cam's face, utter helplessness. Then, as we called Katie home from work, again despair, saddness, pure anguish. As we called Rick and Sarah and Jakie, there was recognition, and peace in Rick's countenance, and pure love as he turned to Jakie's voice for the last time.

Tender mercies abound in our lives. Boyd arrived at the exact time when we would need his broad shoulders to help support us. Our Bishop was near and able to respond to us quickly. We had just what we needed when we needed it. Rick was calm and seemed to be out of pain...a relief to all of us...those final moments of passing were seemingly smooth. Although we were very sad, there was comfort in knowing where he was and who he was with to love and support him and that he was out of pain and discomfort that had been a part of his mortal life for months and in reality, years.

How grateful we are as a family to know that there is a place that continues beyond this life, a place of love, peace and reward for a faithful life, well-lived. If not for that sure knowledge, we would not have been able to endure the pain of loss. With the Lord's help and His mercies, we will.

Bittersweet...

Whenever one comes to the end of an experience there are mixed feelings. When Rick(y) finished a school year there was a sense of accomplishment, yet a sadness for the things that he would never experience again. On Friday, July 24, Rick, our husband and father came to the end of his mortal test.

Peace AND Quiet

Several times over the last few weeks people have come to visit us and had mentioned that they felt a great peace in our home. It happened again yesterday. It makes me happy that they feel that as they enter here.



Sometimes I have wondered whether My mother and Dad and Rick's Dad are near us, watching our progress from the other side of the veil. I have not had any earth-shattering experience other than I know my Mom can feel my pain. She went through a similar experience before me and her mother before her, both at younger ages with younger families than we have. I want to have them near to support and strengthen us. Their examples show us that we can pass through this experience in one piece. I have not expected any visions, or spoken words to let me know of their presence here. I don't think the Lord works that way very often....but I have come to the conclusion that the peace in our home exists because of Heavenly Father's spirit and possibly the protection our our guardian angels and maybe the angels come as those who continually serve us and love us on both sides of the veil. One more tender mercy that we have not asked for, but have been blessed with anyway.



Through priesthood blessings, Rick has been promised that he can attend to us after he reaches the other side. A blessing given to the faithful. It has been his greatest regret that he will miss important events in our lives. If he could choose his assignment in the hereafter, he might choose to work in the nursery...to hug and love any more babies before they come to our families, he has so missed the opportunity to hug and love baby Ricky, his namesake. But there may be more to do than he has time to get to....leaving us for a time with the peace that the Gospel and the Plan of Salvation brings to our family as we prove our faith.



The months ahead may prove to be quiet, and hopefully will remain peaceful. I'll be grateful for that, and hope for a glimpse of the peace eternal bonds bring.

Grace

What is Grace? Now an again popular name, I can think of any number of little girls it belongs to and yet, there is another meaning that goes way beyond the name given to a new little spirit arriving from Heavenly Father.

In our challenges throughout life, it is my desire to live with grace, to experience joy and sorrow, strength and weakness...with grace. In my half-century of living, there have been many times where grace would be the optimal approach to working through problems that occur in my own or my family's life. I have not always achieved it. I pour emotion into my living. I have my highs and my lows. During those experiences, I know I am in charge of my response, but I am not always convinced I give it my best effort.

I strive for grace in living, while experiencing life. It is part of the test.

Time here....

"Time here is measured in relationships, in helping friends and family, not in objects obtained."
Angela Nelson, artist.

Although this quote was taken from an entirely different context, it impressed me for a different reason than the author intended. She was talking about pioneers in Ghana.

I was snapped back into my family's current challenge. Over the last month, we have been caring for Rick at home, with one brief hospitalization. Things have not been easy, we have all had our ups and downs. We have learned, we have progressed, but we have not perfected...not yet.

During the month, I have been impressed by people that have in some way been partners in relationships with Rick over the years. They have stretched as far back as childhood friends, to people who have worked with and for him, to people and professionals who have cared for him, to people who have sung with him, to wonderful neighbors, to many extended family members, to friends of mine, who first knew me and then loved him.

It has been a constant outpouring of love and devotion.

As I watch these tender moments as these kindred spirits visit with him, I am reminded of his impact upon many and how his life will be measured. It will not be measured in possessions, but in love unfeigned. It will be measured in his gentle service to his profession, to family, to friends and to total strangers. Many of those people will be waiting on the other side to thank him for his gentle caring for each of them in their time of need.

May our lives be so measured....

As time goes...

It has been a month since my last posting, not because we have experienced less or or that we have disinterest, but just trying to keep from drowning in reality. Yes, sometimes reality is something I'd like to take a vacation from, but in doing so would lose precious time. So day to day, we are all trying hard to keep on going, putting one foot in front of the other and keeping control of this emotionally charged situation we are living.

It has been a month since we officially stopped chemotherapy...realizing that it was causing physical debilitation and yes danger to Rick's life. The Oncologist felt that even one more treatment would be more than Rick"s body could handle. So, we made the decision to cease and desist in barraging his body with the caustic drugs.

Then the decisions to come...I don't think we realized the emotional hit we were going to take. Although some may think differently, I am a nurse, I help to "fix." It is foreign to my focus to let go of curing and move into palliative care (symptom management). That coupled with fear and loss makes for a time when emotion runs amuk and although we want to be our best selves at this time, I am often frustrated and impatient...but mostly sad....which tends to come out as frustration and impatience...and yes anger at the whole situation. (All normal emotions according to great intellectual experts)

Then as the clouds break and the sun comes peeking through...We are surrounded by people who care for us all and would do about anything to help. I am at a loss to be able to tell them how to help, but knowing they are there and they love us all is comforting. They all help by their offers of support and prayers the very most. It is easy to feel alone in all this, but just stepping outside the door, or to the computer or answering phone calls, helps me to know that the Lord is merciful in sending people to our side quickly to bail us out of near rock-bottom...just in time. Then He who can support us in ways not always realized by us mere mortals, is a prayer away and the Comforter not far behind.

Although the comfort is strong, I also experience anguish as time goes. As I watch my children work hard to help and support in any way possible...I sit at their feet learning from the compassion they show without reservation, without analysis...just love. But I feel helpless when I see their tears spill over and the emotion of everything become just too much for a minute in time. I anguish for the future, when we will not have the support of an understanding leader of our family. I anguish for the loss of a relationship that has always supported me no matter what. I anguish for the grandchildren to come who will not know their loving grandfather. I now understand my own mother's talking often about her loving husband lost to her and us many years before our marriages and grandchildren...her need for us to know our Dad and Grandfather although he had moved on to the other side of the veil. But most of all I anguish in the here and now as Rick suffers, how I wish that somehow, I could take that trial away. It seems that it isn't a part of the plan. That is another thing I am learning...we have to take the test and live the plan.

As time goes by, I hope that we will continue to pull together as a family and rally round our love, our leader and support him. Because although we are experiencing the hardest challenge we have ever had as a family, it is important that we count our minutes and hours and days as a time that is not lost, includes no regrets and is sweet with the spirit... through it all.