Always. Never.

I awoke with the sun this morning. I really wanted to sleep, but the light caught me, my eyes opened, my head starting spinning...and I found myself facing a day I had known was probably coming for over 19 years.

It's the day my son leaves on a mission.

And although I have always desired this for him, and I thought I had prepared myself thoroughly for this day, now that its here...I don't feel like I thought I would. A part of me never thought it would actually get here. I'm not even sure I can describe it, but I'm going to try.

I can remember when he was little, when my days were endless diapers and tantrums and soothing and feedings... I had this overwhelming feeling that it would last forever. I would always be changing diapers. I would never sleep a full night again. I would always have to carry a cutesy nylon bag roughly the size of Manhattan to accommodate any potential baby/toddler disaster. I would never again have any time be my time. Those moments felt like they were never ending. It felt like this is how life would always be. Even though I knew it wouldn't. I mean, logically, it can't.

As he grew, he obviously didn't need me as much to take care of his needs every minute of the day. And eventually he even aggressively drew boundaries. Thank goodness. I remember the first day of fourth grade. I walked him out to the bus stop...what I thought was my big 10 year old... I stood with him by the mailbox and waited. I saw the bus approaching our house and I bent down to hug and kiss him. He put his hand up between us and stated firmly "Step away from the fourth grader." I smiled and felt a little sad. But I understood. He was trying to be more grown up and need me less. Those elementary years were fraught with all kinds of fun. I would always have to sit with him while we struggled through homework. The testing and doctor visits to find out why he was struggling would never end. I would always have to attend some mundane and drawn out meeting or event at the school. I felt sometimes he never turned his brain all the way on in the morning and would never figure out how NOT to do stupid things. Those moments felt like they were never ending. It felt like this is how life would always be. Even though I knew it wouldn't. I mean, logically, it can't.

And then one day he was taller than me. And I mean wayyyy taller. And he needed me again, but more on emotional level than a constant physical one. And I think he hated that he needed me. I think there were moments he just hated me. He was becoming his own person and he and I are very different people essentially. So we had to learn how to interact on a new level. Plus, as he became fully aware of and tried to deal with the many unfair and sometimes overwhelming things that had happened to him and around him during his younger years, I somehow became the one to blame for most of his angst. Partly because in every moment good and bad, I was there. I was the only thing in his life that had been ever present, which put me at the scene of every crime (as it were). But he needed to work through that. With me, and without me. I would always listen to him vent and complain about my "obviously" inadequate parenting. He would never see it from my point of view and never forgive me for moving him away from his friends. He would always want to be doing his own thing and need more money and more transportation. I would never forget the moment when I had walked him into the high school to get something and he hugged me before I left in the middle of a crowded hallway in front of God and everybody. Those moments felt like they were never ending. It felt like this is how life would always be. Even though I knew it wouldn't. I mean, logically, it can't.

And now we are here. On this day. Time feels like it has both stopped and is rushing by. I keep looking at the clock thinking "Will 1:30 ever get here?" and at the same time realizing and hour has passed I didn't even realize it. The moments are coming and going. And obviously every other moment leading to this one that I thought I would always be in and never get out of has come and gone. And suddenly I see very clearly that every "always" and "never" I felt through the past 19 years, were never actually true. Superlatives are hard to apply to the transition of time, because time is not a stationary thing. It moves. Because any amount of time, good or bad, can never be always or never anything. Because eventually, it simply will not be anymore.

Now that I know,now that I understand,  I will apply my "always" and "never" to something less measurable than time, but something that I can promise will always be and never change.

He will always be my son.
I will never stop loving him.

And through every moment that has already gone and every moment yet to come, including every single one today... That's really the only "always" or "never" either of us need.

Timeline: February,March and April

So February and March passed without anything terribly significant. Okay, a few things. But I already blogged about them. I had my car towed in Provo and had to deal with the subsequent consequences that led to thousands of dollars of damage to my van. And in March I started the month with a surprise gall bladder removal and subsequent recovery. I spent a lot to time feeling very tired, watching "Call the Midwife" and eating tapioca pudding.

One kind of cool thing I got to experience at the end of February. My friend Josy Montie was in a play about the first black Mormon pioneer. She was amazing. And the night I went with her brother, President Uchtdorf was also there. He was sitting just a few rows behind us, but I didn't get the chance to meet him.

April was when things got a little crazy.

The first full week of April was Spring Break. I had used all of my vacation time with the surgery. So the kids were left to their own devices. I really wanted them to have a good week, so I arranged for them to go on different adventures every day of that week. I think it turned out well. Maryn actually got the opportunity last minute to go with Lisa, Sage and Brecken to Las Vegas. She had an amazing time! And it was a week that led up to her 14th birthday, so even better.

Monday... Bryant came and got them and took them up AF canyon a bit to make hobo dinners in a fire. They went on a little hike, then came back down and stopped at Cabela's before heading out to the west side of Utah Lake to go off roading in the Jeep. I called on my way back from work so I knew where to meet them for supper... to find out Bryant was being ticketed for trespassing. That was awesome.

Tuesday... Paul took Conner and Ashlyn, plus neighbor boys Parley and Ethan to Nickel City and swimming at the Lehi Pool.

Wednesday... This day was spent with Grandma Downs. They went down to BYU. They toured the art museum, saw where my grandparents used to teach, had lunch in the Cougar Eat and dessert at the Creamery. They really enjoyed themselves.

Thursday... Conner and Ashlyn went with Grandma Thacker up to Heber to see graves and homes that were occupied by our ancestors. She had them first fill out a pedigree chart and then they went on a hunt. It was amazing. That night we all went together to Noodles and Company for dinner and then to Color Me Mine to paint ceramics. It was a blast.

Covered in Crazy

I would say the last six weeks have been covered in crazy.

And that's putting it mildly.

So Paul received his mission call on May 14th. We had several friends and family with us as we found out he would be be serving in the California Roseville Mission, reporting to the MTC on June 25th.

This all happened about the same time I got a promotion and became the director of 2-1-1. I had already purchased tickets to go to Atlanta the first week of June for a conference.

He had seminary graduation on May 25th.

He had graduation on May 30th.

We made plans for Paul to go to Las Vegas to see his grandmother, and spend a week in Ohio to see his dad and my family

All of this travel necessitated that we also make plans to go to the temple the same day he graduated. We went to his graduation ceremony at 12. We met Marcus afterward at Pizza Pie Cafe. Soon after, Bryant and Paul left for the temple (they had to be there at 4:45). We joined them at 6:15. Then several of our friends and family joined us at Chili's for some celebration. It was a good day. Busy. But very very good.

Timeline: November, December, January

So I realized I had written a lot of random posts, about really good things and full of really great thoughts, but that I hadn't really taken the time to fill in some of the memories that have been accumulated over the past few months.
I would like to do that. At least in condensed form.

November
So we did go to St. George for Thanksgiving.

And we had a wonderful time. Kayque had a chance to experience that holiday and we were able to enjoy several tours in St. George; the Brigham Young house, the Jacob Hamblin home and the temple grounds. On the way back from the Hamblin home, we found an old fashioned soda fountain and had something yummy to eat.

On the way back, we went to Zion National Park. We rode the bus through the canyon, and stopped and hiked the Weeping Rock. We ate at the lodge, and then started a very long journey home.

December
This month was busy... with concerts and parties. Kayque had a ballroom recital that was fun to go to. We had a Thacker party and a Downs party (with an impromptu concert!) and a ward party.

I went to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert with Disa and Tara which was AWESOME.

Grandma Downs had us over for dinner and gave us a lovely story quilt.

We enjoyed putting up the tree together and sharing our traditions with Kay. He taught us how to make brigedero, a Brazilian confection. Nick and Jessica came over and made graham cracker "gingerbread" houses with us. Maryn played Silent Night on her cello for sacrament meeting and brought a tear to almost every eye in the chapel.

But the cherry on the top of our December was our trip to Ohio. Everyone was going to be there. It was the first time in many, many years that we were all going to be together at all. And it was lovely.

We arrived on Monday the 23rd, and mom and I went on a whirlwind shopping extravaganza to get Christmas in order. The kids had been told that the tickets were their gift, and there would be nothing else. I surprised them by buying them each 3 gifts; a new outfit, church clothes and a fun item. Except for Kay, who doesn't like dress clothes. He got a hat and a watch and an outfit. But what I did was put a piece of wrapping paper in their stockings. Their gifts were wrapped in that paper and hidden around the house. I think they had a lot of fun with it.

We spent New Years Eve at Melanie's. I was sick by then and spent a majority of the time laying on the couch sleeping. But we enjoyed the time. And the craziness.

I also was able to have time with some other friends from the area, and I was grateful for the chance to reconnect.

Being all together at my parents house was amazing. Feeding 26 people was challenging.

The brightest spots of those days were Garrett and Mandy blessing their son Brycen where we had family pictures taken.

And my siblings and I were able to record and album for my parents, which was a great experience for us overall. More about that project HERE.


January
This began the beginning of the end for us. Kayque was leaving near the end of the month. We had all come to love him very much, and so much of that month was spent tying up loose ends and saying goodbye. Most of that month was about that. The week before he left, we made sure we went to places we wanted to eat and Kayqye got to go tubing in Heber with Bryant. The last Friday he and I spend together in Salt Lake seeing temple square and the conference center as well as the Joseph Smith Memorial building where we enjoyed lunch.

It Could Have Been Me

This... this is why I do what I do. 

I was driving to my grandparents and saw a young woman standing on the corner holding a sign. I drove right past her, like I usually do since most people just don’t want the type of help I can offer (they just want money for sitting on a corner). But something told me to go back. And after some internal arguing, I did.

I got out of my car and joined her on the corner. I could read her sign clearly now “Widow with children. We are short on rent and utilities. Any help would be great.”

As you can imagine… the word widow caught my attention. I could have easily been her.

First I informed her I worked for United Way (so I wasn’t just some random creepy person asking probing questions) and then began assessing her situation. Did she have a shut off notice? An eviction notice? What had she already done? Where did she live? Did they have food? And how did she ended up in this situation…

Her husband of ten years committed suicide a year and a half ago. She had 2 little girls. The youngest is just now in kindergarten. Although she gets SSI, the income is small because her husband had worked very little during the ten years. His grief over his inability to keep a job combined with mental illness led to the choice he made to take his own life. She lived right down the street and worked at the McDonald’s across the street because it was close enough to walk. She rented from a private owner, who refused to give her an eviction notice so she could get help…he would simply evict her. He also kept all the utilities in his name so that she couldn’t go get utility assistance either. She had also been sick for 2 ½ weeks, which meant she missed that much pay “It’s my own fault.” She said, “I should have gone to the doctor earlier. But I didn’t, because I couldn’t afford it. It would have been cheaper than this thought.” She felt he was overcharging her on the utilities, since she had quite suddenly found herself $1600 behind on both.

She had been able to pull together $1000, and in desperation had placed herself on the street corner, hoping to fill in the gap so they wouldn’t become homeless. The landlord had given her until today to come up with the money. She had called DWS and Community Action, but without an eviction notice, I’m sure you know what the answer was. She had applied for medical and foodstamps. I asked her if she had heard of 2-1-1. She grabbed a pink marker out of her bag and wrote the number on the back of her sign. It was Utah County, so I gave her the name of someone I knew would take care of her, and then gave her a list of what to ask about; ask about getting on the list for housing assistance, ask about HEAT emergency assistance, ask about counseling, ask about food, ask about rent deposit assistance (she had decided staying in her current situation was a bad idea and really wanted to get out.) And I told her the guidelines for each of those programs, and the best things to say to get what she needed. She jotted all of this down.

At the end of the conversation, I gave her some money and then looked in her eyes. “I am a widow. I have been for eight years. It will get better. I remember being where you are right now. I promise it will get better.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you.” 

I could have been her. I never found myself on a street corner asking for help to sustain my children… but if that would have been my option, I would have. Plus, I lived in the country at that time. We didn’t have corners to stand on. It was like looking back at myself… seeing me in her. And I truly hope, she could see some hope in what she perceived of me… a well-dressed, nice car, actual cash in her wallet woman who had  been where she was.

I am so grateful for my life... for my full, rich, very blessed life.  

Carousel

The CarouselRainer Maria Rilke

For a little while in a roof's shade,

Brightly painted horses turn in a band.

They have all been taken from a land

That hesitates before it fades.

A pinching harness keeps them bound,
But all have courage in their eyes,
A crimson lion terrifies,
And now the china elephant comes 'round.

Just as in the woods there's a buck,
Except that it's saddled and carries
A little blue girl all buckled up.

And on the lion rides in white a young
Boy and holds on with a small warm hand
As the animal shows his teeth and tongue.

And now the china elephant comes 'round.

Bright young ladies are also there,

Almost too old for these wooden mounds,

In the middle of the leaps and bounds,

They look up, around, at us, anywhere.

And now the china elephant comes 'round.

And so it goes--faster, hastening its end,

It circles and it turns and has no aim,

A red, a green, a grey sent around,

A small inchoate outline of a face,

And sometimes we see a smile triumphant

And bless'd that sparkles and is spent

On this blind and breathless game...

Spiritual Economics

So life is rarely what you think it should be. And we all know nothing makes God laugh like a man's plans. Or a woman's plans in this case.

But either way, I'm sure he's been getting a good giggle out of my life lately.

I feel like I need to preface this story with a caveat; I knew this year was going to be hard. Last May, when Paul turned 18 and his missionary calling was imminent, I had a feeling akin to "Brace yourself. Its going to be tough one!"

I originally suspected it was going to be a financial challenge.

Some of the challenges fall into that category, the "financially-annoying- in- nature"; speeding and parking tickets, an accident on the freeway plus the towing incident leading to unexpected costs on the cars (thousands of dollars actually), broken computers, school fees, illnesses that eat into my paid time off plus costly doctors visits and medicines,they're selling our condo and we need to find a new home. They have become piled on top of each other making life more difficult to manage than usual.  Like my friend Doris said "We would all just like to say stop that. No more surgeries. car accidents, etc." True story Doris. Word.

But the real difficulty lies in what has become a very refining part of my life in the emotional, spiritual, and mental areas. A lot of the experiences are the types of things that force you to stretch and grow and bring you to your knees because you have no where else to go. The types of things that make you dig very deep and come to understand who you are, and decide if you're okay with where your life is and where it feels like the Lord is taking you. You are brought face to face with your fears and insecurities and have to recognize they exist...then grab the opportunities to grow and forgive yourself for your weakness or let those situations mow you ever and turn you in human mulch. Most of them are things I can't even yet share the details of the journey... because the journey is still in progress. But it has been hard. And some days have felt like nothing short of despair. It has been professionally and personally the hardest 6 months of my life in recent memory.

Wendy Ulrich in the book Voices of Hope shares this insight:

 "When Christ's teachings or life's demands are hard or offensive, we need special help from the Father to not go back but to continue to walk with the Savior. That help generally comes after - not before - we make the decision to do whatever God requires. We often struggle with this order. We want God to do His part first - to make us happy, cure our ills, bring us love, remove our frustrations, meet our needs - and then we will sing on the dotted line. After all, wouldn't we be suckers to spend all our emotional savings before seeing the merchandise we are purchasing?

Dealing with God is not an economic exchange, governed by the rules of the marketplace. The decision to follow God comes from our deepening conviction that God, unlike our fellow mortals, can always be trusted to do His best for us, free from selfish intent. The decision to follow God is not a bargain we strike but a statement about who we are and an expression of our deepest values, regardless of the temporary outcomes. Our covenant relationship with God is not based on short-term economic exchanges (I'll stay as long as I'm happy, as long as I'm fairly compensated for my efforts as long as it makes obvious send) but on an emerging trust that God's best is as good as it gets, ever, even when we cannot quite see how, Such a commitment provides direction and sustenance regardless of the vicissitudes of life."

I believe in Him. Not only do I believe IN Him, I believe HIM. I believe that his best IS as good as it gets and that the current demands on my life are bringing me closer to that best. And even though he asks us to step forward with faith into a dark and terrifying unknown without giving us all of the answers to the where or the why... he keeps sending us little reminders that in the darkness, we are not alone. That even though he cannot give us the fullness of the blessing until the task is complete, he will always be close enough that we can feel his love. He shows us this love through what many have come to call "tender mercies".

The events of this past week seem to me, the perfect metaphor for this process.

The pain right below my ribs had been constant if not consistent. A dull ache was always there, sometimes turning into sharp stabbing pains that would double me over and leave me on the floor. The severity and frequency of these attacks was increasing. And Sunday was kind of the final straw. I took myself home from church and laid down hoping the pains would subside. They did. Enough for us to be able to run up to my aunts and enjoy some family time. But when we got home, the pains picked back up again. And the timing was impeccable. Marcus had stopped by. And the bishop had just called to ask Paul and I to stop over and sign some paperwork to complete his missionary requirements. Marcus drove us over and it was decided I would seek a blessing from the bishop to know what best to do in this case. Should I wait it out? Should we go to the emergency room? I wasn't sure. Mostly, I just wanted to stop hurting.

The blessing was interesting. I was told that the doctors would be able to quickly diagnose the problem, and that while I healed I needed to remember to allow others to serve me. And to be assured that my family would be provided for.

As he spoke, my mind flashed back to a not too dissimilar situation 9 years ago. I had cut my thumb. And the pain that came a few days later seared my arm from finger to elbow. We had no insurance. I pled with the Lord to take the pain away. I just knew if I could rest that I would be better. The Lord knew far more than I did. The pain, even after my pleading, increased to the point I could no longer stay away, I took myself to the ER (where the pain immediately subsided) and was promptly admitted, given the warning that my entire arm was infected and it was quite likely I would lose part of my hand and arm. The Lord intervened and I kept every part of me person, thanks to blessings, prayers and guidance from those near to me. Had I waited, it might not have turned out the same.

As the bishop finished, the pains sharpened again. I understood the message. Go to the hospital.

Short story; I was admitted and had my gallbladder removed the next morning complete with a recovery time.

But the point is not actually the surgery. Or the pain. The point is the mercies.

First mercy... Marcus. I could not have asked for anyone better to be with me. He is a very good man. And an amazing friend. He deserves a lot of credit for not only going with me, but staying with me through bloodwork, ultrasounds, vomit, and the decisions that had to be made. He did not leave me until I was settled in and practically asleep. His "I love you" is the last thing I can recall before I drifted off into a medication induced slumber.

Second mercy... Bryant, my brother. Also a very good man. He came straight from working the night shift and went to go talk to my kids so they knew what was going on and made sure they were off to school before coming over to see me. He stayed with me until they took me to surgery. And he was back to take me home, letting his second job know he couldn't be there because he had to help his sister. He took the kids to the store and got some groceries. I am so grateful for him and his willingness to be there for me and for us.

Third mercy... Bryant had to leave to go get some sleep and I really thought I would be just fine a lone until later in the day after I had come out of anesthesia. But my mother felt otherwise, and called my Grandma Thacker to come and be there when I got back to the room. I was so grateful for it. As I was coming out of the anesthesia, I lost it a little and started crying hysterically I guess. And there stood my grandmother, holding my hand, stroking it and calming me down. I needed that. I needed her. It was the first time I had really had a chance to cry about any of this, and she was there to help me through it. She stayed the whole day as my company until Bryant came back.

Fourth mercy...  Kayque sent me a facebook message, pleading with me to let him know I was okay. He told me that on Sunday he had just started thinking of me and knew he needed to say a prayer for me. And that God would somehow get that message to me. What was interesting, is about the same time on Saturday when he was praying for me, I was overcome with the thought of him and missed him. I could feel that prayer. It helped to know that someone half a world away from me loved me and was thinking of me.

Fifth mercy...  the outpouring of love and support was incredible! I have wonderful people in my life and their willingness to serve and offer anything they could to us was amazing. The countless emails, messages, texts and calls.  It helped bring an enormous amount of peace to the whole process.

I see this surgery week as a metaphor for all of the things that have been going on...so let me wrap it nicely in a little package. Just like my surprise surgery, life is full of things we didn't plan to go through. But they are necessary. I needed to have that surgery. Like my sister in law Tamra said...surgery is immediate gain for long term pain. Most of what I am going through now is immediate pain for long term gain. But I have to pay the price first. That is how spiritual economics works. The most wonderful thing is that even though I would have ultimately seen the benefits of the surgery regardless of the small mercies, the small mercies made the temporary pain bearable and reminded me why the pain was worth it and that it would not last forever. Just like the many small and simple things that have helped me through surgery and recovery, I have had those moments appear even on the edge of despair; the story I needed to read, the friend I needed to talk to, even the stranger I needed to talk to... all mercies to remind me that the pain would pass. That his best is as good at it gets...even when in the moment, I cannot see how.