Memorable Memorial Day

The weekend didn't have the greatest start - mainly highlighted by a meal of Thai food on Saturday that didn't agree with me and ended with me awkwardly hunched over the toilet violently throwing up in the middle of the night. I tried to use the toilet paper roll dispenser to steady myself and ended up breaking it and cutting my wrist in the process, which I didn't realize until after the heaving was over and I was brushing my teeth. Yeah, 34 weeks pregnant and throwing up turns out is not very fun, or easy.

I tried to take it easy on Sunday and then today arrived and with it some unexpected motivation to invite guests for dinner and spend a good part of the day preparing a fun Memorial Day spread. The boys had a blast with me in the kitchen, though, which made it so much more fun. They pulled chairs up to the counter and each took turns helping me stir the strawberry jello, mixing up a batch of whole wheat bread, cutting up the hard-boiled eggs for the potato salad and the best part - taste-testing everything! After tasting the potato salad I asked Hugh if he liked it, which made him say over and over "liked it."

Then, later after naps were over we gathered around the same counter and did the prep work for homemade ice cream. Once we were to the point of putting the ice and rock salt in the bucket, we sat on the kitchen floor and the boys put ice cubes in one-by-one. They were so happy to be helping and it was fun to watch them get so excited. The excitement got even more palpable as we moved the ice cream maker out to the back porch and the churning began. It was nearly impossible to pry them away with any other distractions.

Even when I was able to get them playing in the backyard, that ice cream maker kept calling for attention and we'd end up huddled around it, watching it churn away. After about 20 minutes, I decided to check it. The boys were so thrilled to get the first taste and weren't too happy when that was all they got. After another 20 minutes we brought it inside and they both ran to the kitchen table, calling out "bowl" and "spoon", making it very clear they were ready for more than a taste. And, even though I wasn't planning on giving them any until after dinner, I just couldn't resist.

We had delicious hamburgers to go with the salads that had all day to chill in the fridge and some good company to make it a fun night. The boys are starting to get more social with people they don't know and it was so cute to watch them bring their race cars and fire trucks and hot wheels to share with our guests, with big smiles and pleased with their willingness to share. I know how hard it is for them to share at their age, so I make sure they know in those moments how happy I am with them.

As we were cleaning up from dinner, I realized it had been such a busy day that we hadn't even talked about plans to visit the cemetery. Since Marc had just been there a couple of days ago while out on a bike ride, he offered to stay home with the boys while I went alone. But, I thought it'd be more fun to all go together, so we hurried through the dishes and then piled into the car with flowers in hand to take with us to visit the twins' site.

I don't know exactly how we'll talk about the twins with our children and what exactly we'll share with them, but I really want moments like this to just be a normal part of our life. Not in an overly-emotional way or like we're making a big production about anything... just that they'll know our family started with two girls who we loved and still love dearly and who still have their place in our family. And, I hope that in doing so they will find those moments to be just as special as they are to us. Of course, for now (and maybe for a few years more), the part the boys love most is seeing the deer gathered in little groups throughout the grounds, which I have to admit is a pretty cool thing to witness!

Visiting the cemetery continues to be a place of clarity and puts life back into its proper perspective and I feel so grateful for that gift. It was the perfect way to bring the day to a close. And, it was such a fun, memorable day spent with my two big helpers who, even with all their terrible-two moments, bring me so much joy!

And, if all goes as planned for tomorrow, we will hopefully finally finalize the purchase of our first big family vehicle. Fingers crossed!!

Memorial Day

Today, for Memorial Day, we took the boys to the cemetery. Even though I know they aren't able to understand everything right now, we want moments like that to always feel like a normal part of our life, and our girls a normal part of our family.

We were happy to share the moment with my parents, my sister, and her two little ones.

Ben wanted to get down and run around, like we were at the park. He thought all of the graveside decor were toys... kinda hard to keep him from grabbing at everything!

Not wanting to disturb anyone or anything, we didn't stay long, but it was still a nice visit. Spending time remembering Elliana and Emmaline increasingly brings peace to my life and clarity to my priorities. I just hope that through the years these visits will provide Ben and Hugh with the same feelings of peace and clarity.

Memorial Day

We made a quick visit to the cemetery on Memorial Day. 

My memories of the twins have been flooding my thoughts lately. I suppose there are a few reasons - the birth of Hugh, the recent walks through the same halls of the hospital where the twins were born, and then last week hearing of a friend losing her baby at about the same point we lost our twins. All of these things have brought memories, images, and feelings to the surface. I'm still trying to sort through them all, but I am grateful for the obvious healing that I've found among all of the memories and emotions.

A year ago, as we were still feeling the sting of death pierce through our broken hearts, I never would have imagined the place we'd find ourselves in this year. 

I don't know if postpartum hormones are the cause, but lately I've been reduced to tears much more frequently than normal. My heart is so full. I spend my days caring for these two precious boys and I can't believe how blessed I've been. I have moments when I start to feel a little overwhelmed by the challenges and responsibilities that have come with these two little ones, but I wouldn't have it any other way. And, fortunately I have wonderful family and friends who have been helping so much. 

Our time at the cemetery ended with Hugh needing an emergency feeding and Ben exploring the texture and smell of the grass. 

I'm looking forward to the day we can tell our boys about their sisters who came before them and the place they hold in our eternal family, and for the suspected role they have played in bringing us all together.

Pioneers

Youth Pioneer Trek, May 2009

pi⋅o⋅neer

One that goes before, showing the others the way to follow. 

In the state of Utah and in lives of Latter-day Saints across the world, today is an important day. Pioneer Day. We celebrate those who have gone before, and particularly the sacrifices that they made along the way. 

For the rest of my life, Pioneer Day will never be the same. It was on this day last year that we laid our daughters to rest. We didn't choose the day because it was Pioneer Day, it just happened to be the day that was going to work best for family members to gather. I've been thinking a lot today about the events on this day one year ago - the private viewing with our family members (which will forever be one of the most sacred of my life's experiences), the memorial service, the graveside service, the time spent with family, the comfort that literally carried us through all the events of that day.

I remember it was a long day. I remember laying in bed that night feeling reassured that we had made the right choices for us that would help us properly grieve. 

Today, a year later, while I've reflected on some of the events and experiences from the memorial service for our twins, I've also been thinking about my pioneer heritage. There are some incredible stories in my family about relatives that made unimaginable sacrifices, leaving family and security. I recognize that many of my blessings today are a direct result of the choices made by my ancestors. I plan on meeting them one day, thanking them for their sacrifices, mingling my tears with theirs.

But, today I'm grateful for certain other pioneers in my life that might not seem as obvious on the surface. As we've gone through some crazy months of unpredictable emotions and experiences that have left us confused and numb, we've been blessed by the company of a few who have already walked this path. These are people who have grieved their own losses, who know the twists and turns, who understand our heavy hearts, who have been willing to walk the path with us, showing us the way. I'm convinced that divine intervention has played a role in allowing our paths to cross with some of the most compassionate and empathetic people we have ever known. These are pioneers with whom we've already mingled our tears with theirs. 

As my thoughts have turned to these different types of pioneers, I've thought of my girls. They, too, are pioneers. As they've gone before us to a new place, they've inspired us to want to follow their lead, doing whatever is required of us to get to where they are. And, we will do anything to make it there. 

I'm relieved we made it through the heaviness that resurfaced last week... I seriously wondered if we would. It's a relief when the calm returns and we remember again what it's like to breathe without the panic. On this Pioneer Day, I feel especially relieved to have people in my life (past, present, and future) who are personal pioneers, trailblazing the path ahead, helping me make progress in my journey to a better world, leaving me with the hope that I can also be a pioneer for those yet to follow.

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Graveside

July 24, 2008 - Thursday afternoon

A few hours after the Memorial service, we held a private Graveside service with just our family members. We sang "I Am a Child of God." Marc dedicated the grave, blessing it to be a place of inspiration and comfort to all who visit. Again, it was a beautiful moment, shared together with our families.

Memorial Service

July 24, 2008 - Thursday morning

The couple of days prior to the Memorial Service had me feeling nervous and unable to follow through with our plans. I felt relieved that Thursday morning I woke up feeling calm, reassured that we would make it through the events of the day. I know we were being strengthened by the countless prayers being offered for us, as well as being completely surrounded by our families. We were overwhelmed as we found out that more and more of our family members were traveling from long distances to be with us. Between Marc's family and my family, we had 17 family members here with us. We are so blessed to have the most supportive, loving families.

At 8am we held a private viewing with just our families. We sang "Teach Me to Walk in the Light" and had an opening prayer. The feeling in the room was one of the most incredible feelings I've ever felt. It was the most powerful feeling of the purest love. It was sacred. As each member of the family had their moment to say their good-byes to Elliana and Emmaline, there was not a dry eye in the room. The Spirit was strong, feelings were tender. Marc and I were overwhelmed with love for our girls... and with love for our family members who already loved our girls so much. It is a moment we won't ever forget.

At the entrance to the chapel, we had this set up:

At 9am we held the Memorial Service. Again, we were overwhelmed with the response from so many of our friends who took time out of their morning to come mourn with us. Our hearts were deeply touched by the love and support we were receiving. We opened the service with "Be Still my Soul" and an opening prayer by my oldest brother. Then, I shared some of my feelings and the assurance we have felt that we are bound to our little girls forever.

For the special musical number my sisters sang "My Heavenly Father Loves Me"... it was the song I would always sing to Elliana and Emmaline when I was driving in the car alone. It has always felt like it was their song. My sisters sounded like angels! They did a beautiful job!

At the front of the podium, we had this beautiful picture, that we realized later went together so beautifully with the special musical number:

Marc followed the song by sharing his thoughts about the Plan of Salvation and how we've been strengthened every step of the way, because of our testimonies. Our bishop, then, shared some sweet feelings, giving his assurance of the eternal nature of our family. We closed the meeting with "Families Can Be Together Forever" and a prayer by Marc's Mom. 

As we greeted those who came to the service, our hearts were so full. We were hugged and kissed, we were filled with love. So many people were so generous and sweet. We were completely overwhelmed with love. It filled us to overflowing.

Never before in my life have I understood better the power and beauty of the covenant to "bear one another's burdens, that they may be light" and to "mourn with those that mourn" and "comfort those who stand in need of comfort." Being on the receiving end of such pure acts of love softened our hearts and truly filled us with the comfort and the strength we so desperately needed. Our burdens were lifted, our hearts were comforted in a very real way.

We know there were many who weren't able to be there physically, but whose love and support were felt so strongly in our hearts. We are so grateful for their love and prayers for us, even from a distance.

My brothers, Danny and Jamie, carrying the casket from the chapel

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Rainmaker Mountain

* Rainmaker Mountain in American Samoa, photo courtesy of wikipedia.org

I've been wanting to share some of the details of our Memorial and Graveside services. But, it's been hard to know where to start. So, for now, maybe I'll just share things in parts or pieces.

To begin, I thought it'd be appropriate to continue with this topic of perspective. In my talk at the Memorial service for Elliana and Emmaline, I shared a story that was shared with me by my brother-in-law. I LOVE the message of this story and I have appreciated how much it has helped me see the events of the last few weeks in a different way.

The story is attributed to Randy Bott, who was actually my Mission Prep. teacher at BYU:

The next time you're through American Samoa I'd like you to note that there's a mountain down there called the Mapusaga rainmaker, and it's like some angry giant underneath the crust of the earth has taken his fist and thrust it skyward for 1,500 feet straight in the air, including the tabletop. Well, two teenage boys, Christmas vacation, not heavily endowed intellectually, either one of us. We decided that we would climb the mountain. 

I'm not going to tell you about the climbing the mountain, but I will tell you that before that time when I lived in American Samoa years ago, there was one road that went from one end of the island to the other. It was the most miserable thing I had ever traversed in my entire life. It was designed by the devil himself and constructed by his engineers. It was just one jig and jog after another and where there wasn't a jig or a jog there was a big pothole. 

Well, on top of the mountain, because there is no pollution in Samoa, on a clear day you can see forever. And for the first time in my life, I received one of the great revelations in my life--there was no 5,000 watt light bulb. No voice; no vision. But from 1,500 feet in the air I could see what I could not see from down there on the road, that there was purpose in the jigs and the jogs. The bush in Samoa is so thick you can't see a dozen feet off the road, and so you couldn't see that there was a huge boulder that the road had to weave around, or there was a bog hole over here that would have swallowed up the bus, or there was a village, or there was an ocean, and it just made perfect sense from 1,500 feet in the air. And brothers and sisters, from 1,500 feet in the air you couldn't see the potholes.  

I am convinced that just as sure as God lives the day will come when each of us, individually, will have the chance to stand atop the Mapusaga Rainmaker of our lives and with the Savior, be able to review all of the jigs and the jogs all the way through. And then, if not before, you will be constrained to admit that he has done admirably well your test of mortality and exaltation. Nothing is frivolous. God does not do things serendipitously.