7 years ago exactly I had just finished volleyball practice when me and my sister Anna went straight from there to visit my Mom at IHC in Murray. We went to wish my Mom luck before her hysterectomy. As far as we knew it was a very common procedure and she would be just fine. We wished her luck, said goodbye and told her we loved her. That was the last thing she was able to say to us. She died at 12:15 a.m. on the 18th.
Every year, somewhat unconsciously, I really struggle at her death date. After talking to a good friend a few months ago about losing our parents, she helped me realize that I've made a habit of not letting myself be sad very often. She lent me a book called "Daring Greatly" by Brene Brown and I'm not usually one for self-help books but it's helping me let myself feel whatever I'm feeling. So here I am writing...and daring greatly. I am really good at coming up with excuses to not let myself cry or be sad. I am a Mom, I have to be there for my kids. I have a job, I need the money and need to be able to get through the day. Not very many people will understand anyway, so why would I let my feelings show? And since those people don't understand, why would I want to make them feel awkward and uncomfortable with my tears and overwhelming sadness? At the time, it's easier to just push it away, tell myself I'll deal with it later even though I know I won't. In the long run however, it's really stunting my ability to learn and grow. What am I teaching my kids if I never cry in front of them or openly struggle. Will they grow up thinking it's not ok to cry? That it's some sort of weakness? That we're not supposed to struggle or ask for help? Or maybe that I'm heartless or not emotional and therefore I'm not understanding of their sadness or struggles. Regardless I figure it can only help to let myself be vulnerable and help them to learn from it as they grow.
At times I feel bitter. I went through two years of high school having to watch my friends interact with their mothers all the time. Often times they would fight with their mom's (yes, I understand this is a normal teenage girl thing to do) and I couldn't help but think "why did you get to keep your mom? Why me?" It was nothing against my friends, I just think you can't help but be bitter when something hurts so bad, and I've learned that's ok. Through the atonement and the pure love of Christ... he understands. And whatever I'm feeling is ok. But bitterness is not a good feeling, it's painful and it still comes around every so often. Actually more often than I would like to admit.
I'm also still really angry. Maybe you would think after 7 years that wouldn't be the case. In that 7 years I've missed out on so much because she's not here. My kids have missed out on simply knowing her. When you're a Mom your children's needs are immediately put before your own. Most mother's own that and live up to it constantly putting themselves last. My Mom was that way. And when she died that comfort that your feelings/needs/wants come first for someone died too. It's especially hard when all mine and Braiden's time and effort goes into our family and our children. I can't help but yearn for that feeling. I can't help but be angry that comfort was taken away from me. I'm not really able to place my anger... sometimes I'm angry at God because I know this was his call but I also know I could never do it without him. Sometimes I'm angry at my Mom because I know at some point she agreed to this but I also know how hard it must have been for a dedicated mother and wife to leave her husband and children. But mostly I'm just angry. Last night me and Braiden got into a fight (yes married couples fight, I'm not ashamed) I drove around in my car and just kept thinking about where I could go and just "be" at 10 p.m. where there would be no judgement and where there would be complete understanding. I have a lot of siblings and I know any one of them would have loved to have me. But I would have felt guilty when they all have jobs, or kids to tend to in the morning. The point is, you don't feel guilty going to your Mom at any time of day...that's what she's there for and she's proved that to you throughout your whole life. Nothing is ever the same. So....I sat in my car and heaved and sobbed and hit the steering wheel over and over again just because I missed my Mom. Dramatic? I don't think so...it hurts so bad. I know when my family reads this I'm going to get a lot of crap for not just calling one of them haha. They're the greatest.
Mostly, I'm sad. I never really understood how deep the meaning of the word "sad" can really go. So sad sometimes I still feel like I could throw up. So sad that I've had to live without her for 7 long years and afraid I'm going to forget things about her in the next however many. Frustrated that the depth of that sadness hasn't changed in 7 years and it still hurts as bad as the moment I had to say goodbye. Sad as I come to grips with the fact that the sadness will never change...no matter how much time passes. So happy and relieved that the sadness will never change no matter how much time passes. It's the best reminder of how much I love her, how strong our bond is, and how I will never forget her. I don't ever want to not be sad that she isn't here. But I'm so exhausted from the sadness that I just wish this had never happened. The sadness should never even have had a chance to be there in the first place. I know I can't go back, change the past or whatever. So I really believe I should just get one more day with her. One more day to love her, to appreciate her, and to ask her so many questions before I know I won't be able to anymore. Is that too much to ask? With all the heartache from this loss I don't feel like it is. That should be mandatory...I'll take it up with the Man upstairs.
I think a common misconception is that if someone is truly sad they are incapable of smiling, laughing at a joke, or being happy and satisfied with their life. That they are unable to function at full capacity. Well I mastered the art of complete silent crying, putting on a face, and being the absolute best I know how...all while being sad. And I have so much love and happiness in my life with my husband, kids, siblings, parents and friends. True...some days are worse than others. Most days the good outweighs the bad, I feel lucky and blessed. But the sadness is always there. On my best day I think about how I wish she was here to talk to about it or witness it and that makes me sad. I could be having a good day until I hear someone bad mouth their Mom and I flip a switch. It's always there and it's something I will have to work to overcome. I think being vulnerable is a first step. Letting myself be indescribably sad on her death day...more like during her death month...is probably a good step too.
I'm still learning to open up to Braiden, my own spouse, and cry in front of him and need his help. The more I do the more I realize how comforting it really is to open up to someone who loves you enough to just hold you so tight you don't feel like you're literally falling apart anymore.... until the heaving and sobbing stops. How comforting it is to let your daughter hold you and tell you "it's ok Mommy" when you tell her you're sad because you miss Grandma Dene and watch her get sad too when you tell her Grandma Dene is your Mommy. And how satisfying it can be when friends or even a complete stranger tell you they are sorry and give you a hug while you cry. So here I am 7 years later... a happy wife and proud mother. Still bitter, still angry and still sad....but working on it :)
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Monday, February 15, 2016
Angel Mother
I've been delaying this post as long as I possibly can. I knew it would be hard and wasn't sure I was prepared for it but I feel almost a constant nagging from my Mom to get this done. If not for someone else to read it then for myself. My sweet husband took my kids to Bear Lake with his family for the weekend to give me some time at home by myself. I worked Friday and Saturday night or I would have gone with him. I decided this was a good time to write without any distractions. This will probably be my longest post yet but writing about the loss of my Mother cannot be shortened or condensed...nor can I write about the experience in its entirety as it is an all consuming trial I will continue to struggle with every day of my life.
I had just turned 16 years old. My Mom had thrown me an overnight surprise birthday party in Park City with all my friends with only my sister as a chaperon (every 16 year old's dream right?). I went to EFY a few weeks later. I got home from EFY on Saturday August 15th and went to lagoon with my family. The next day we had Stake Conference which we attended as a family. I remember sitting there with my Mom and she asked if I would go to the restroom with her because she didn't feel well. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking of how gross my hair looked because that, and my recent break up with a high school boyfriend were the only two things on my mind. That stomach ache she had was where it all began. We went home and she lied down to see if she would feel better. I was invited by a friend to play volleyball so I asked my Mom if I could go. She told me it was the Sabbath day and she would rather me not go but she was going to let me make the decision. I made the decision to go...obviously not knowing that was the last time I would see her at home. My friend got a call while we were playing (I didn't have a cell phone) to let me know my Mom had gone into the Intermountain Hospital in Murray with some pretty severe abdominal pain. My brother Mike was there for an internship so she chose to go to that specific hospital.
She was in the hospital but as far as I knew there was no reason to be alarmed so I went to volleyball practice on Monday morning August 17th (my little brother Dema's birthday) and my sister Anna and I went to see her afterwards. She was concerned with her appearance and asked us to buy her some "foaming face wash" and bring her some make up haha. She was so weak and tired I remember helping her brush her teeth. At this point Dr's had learned she had an infection in her uterus and they would need to remove it. It didn't seem like a big deal because she was 54 and didn't need her uterus. They scheduled the surgery immediately and we all told her we loved her and wished her good luck. I will never forget that for some reason she hugged me twice and told me she loved me twice. It was the last thing she ever said to me and the last thing I ever heard her say. We waited about 4 hours through the surgery and were told everything went well we just needed to wait for her to wake up. They allowed two of us in at a time to see her while she was still sleeping but the angry nurse lady wouldn't allow us to touch her or speak to her. I went home, showered, and was planning on going back to see her once she woke up.
I received a call from my sister Shannon a little later. She was crying and told me I needed to grab Dema and run as fast as I could down 1400 North to main street so she could pick us up. Something was wrong with my Mom and we needed to hurry. Dema and I ran down to main street and jumped in the car where Shannon told us the infection had spread and she wasn't doing well. I cried on Dema's lap the whole way there but I still thought that she would be ok, she had to be. We got there and the waiting room filled up pretty quickly with our family and close friends. After many hours and so much hard work from multiple doctors and hospital staff, my brother Mike came out of her room and told us the infection had spread everywhere and that her body was going septic. He said " It's time to say goodbye." I was in disbelief as we all started walking toward her room. In the hallway I fell to the floor because I couldn't do it. I couldn't say goodbye to my Mom... I wasn't ready. I remember my sister Andrea pulling me up and saying "I know Maddy, I'm so sorry, but you have to" through her tears. Seeing her hooked up to so many machines was hard. She couldn't move, speak, or open her eyes but she knew we were there and she could hear us. We all took turns saying goodbye. Holding her hands and kissing her cheek. My brothers Kenny and Denis were serving missions at the time and were only able to say goodbye over the phone. My sweet Dad leaned over and told her that it was OK to go...that we would be OK. I'm sure that was one of the hardest things he's ever done but he loves her so much and seeing her in so much pain was so hard. I know she was fighting as hard as she could. She shed a couple tears, and finally gave up the fight at 12:15 am on Tuesday August 18th, 2009. 15 minutes after Dema's birthday had ended. If you knew her you would know that she did that on purpose; there is no way she would have let herself die on her sweet Dema's birthday.
We drove home and I went to sleep praying with all my might that I would wake up and this would be some sort of awful nightmare. Every morning for the next 5 or 6 months was like losing her all over again. The next few days were filled with an insane amount of food that I couldn't eat (but appreciated all the same) and SO many people who cared about her and our family. I will never forget answering the door for Brad Barton (close family friend) as he collapsed crying on my shoulder. She was so loved. It meant so much to all of us to see how so many people were affected by her loss. Her funeral was beautiful and the church hardly fit everyone in attendance. We used the chapel, the primary room and the relief society room but people still had to stand. We had so much love and support.
School started the next Monday...my Junior year of high school. I went knowing it was what her and my Dad wanted. My teachers were very kind and supportive but I didn't learn a thing and I got my worst 2.7 GPA that term....whoops. I cried all day every day....I cry pretty quietly thank goodness but I usually stuck to the back of the classroom just in case. I bought a lot of water proof mascara. I use to go home and sit in her closet and smell her clothes because they still smelled like her. I was a very angry teenager. I was very angry at God for taking my Mom away from me but I still needed him to get through every minute of the day...and he was there. Even when I pushed him away and refused to admit that I needed him, he was there. I think it was around 5 months when it started to sink in that she wasn't coming back and it was time to move forward with my life. I couldn't just sit there and expect the world to stop turning for me anymore. I had the choice to keep being angry, or to accept the fact that I didn't understand and that was OK. I chose the latter and while I was still a teenager who constantly fought with my Dad, I decided to try and live in a way that would make her proud of me.
I look back now and am so grateful I made that decision. I still fail and come up short a lot but I know she is here for me and I recognize God's hand and the Holy Spirit in all that I do. I went to my first dance without her there... I graduated high school, I got married, I got my associates degree, and I had two beautiful babies who will never know her in this life. I know I will do so much more in this life and my heart will ache for her every time I know she should be there. I am also grateful for what I have gained through this loss. I am grateful that for the 16 years I had her she loved me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. I have never been closer to my siblings or my Dad. We have really pulled together and I couldn't live without each and every one of them. I have an amazing husband and without my Mom's strong influence on my Dad i'm not sure he would have let me marry him straight out of high school like I did. I have needed Braiden so much and am so grateful I didn't have to wait another day to marry him and start our eternity together. I am grateful for the understanding this experience has given me and the opportunity I have had to help others through their losses. I am grateful for the step family that has come into my life and the things I have learned from them. I am grateful for all of these things, however, if I could have her back I would. As long as it meant I could still have my family :) I mean...I'm only human.
I have learned through everything that when someone you know dies, there is a void that is impossible to ignore. No matter how well you knew them that void is still there and it makes us sad. There is never a way to "move on" from a great loss only a way to move forward. Losing someone will never get easier you just get stronger. I remember someone telling me that eventually I'll be able to think of my Mom and smile instead of cry or be sad. I'm still wondering when that will happen but I know that if it never happens that's OK. I also know that it's OK if one day that does happen for me. Our loved ones who have passed have a much greater knowledge and perspective than we do and there is no reason to feel guilty for being happy. I have learned from my close friends what it means to be a true friend in times of need. I have learned the importance of a Mother and because of that I strive every day to be the Mother and wife my family deserves. I've learned that she is my Guardian Angel and has saved me or my family more times than we are even aware.
So be nice to your parents and especially your Mom because there are some of us who would give anything to hear our Mom nag us one more time, force her opinion on us because she cares or make us get out of bed in the morning. Now I am a Mom myself and I realize just how much she must have loved me and just how hard it probably was for her to leave me. She probably misses me just as much as I miss her if not more. I also realize how much she actually did for me throughout my life and I wish I would have appreciated her like she deserved. I wish I would have asked her more questions about things like her political views and how I acted as a child so I could compare it to my children. There are things I may never know about her in this life because our time was cut short. There may not be a person in the world that loves you like your parents so ask them questions, hold them close and truly cherish them.
If you made it...thank you for reading. And if during the time of our loss you ever said thoughts or prayers for me or my family, sent your condolences, wrote us a note or on social media, brought us a gift, stopped by, joined me at the cemetery to see my Mom, or been there for us in any way...just know that each and every one of you made a difference and it means so much to us! It would be impossible to thank each person individually but I hope you'll read this and know I'm talking about you :)
I had just turned 16 years old. My Mom had thrown me an overnight surprise birthday party in Park City with all my friends with only my sister as a chaperon (every 16 year old's dream right?). I went to EFY a few weeks later. I got home from EFY on Saturday August 15th and went to lagoon with my family. The next day we had Stake Conference which we attended as a family. I remember sitting there with my Mom and she asked if I would go to the restroom with her because she didn't feel well. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking of how gross my hair looked because that, and my recent break up with a high school boyfriend were the only two things on my mind. That stomach ache she had was where it all began. We went home and she lied down to see if she would feel better. I was invited by a friend to play volleyball so I asked my Mom if I could go. She told me it was the Sabbath day and she would rather me not go but she was going to let me make the decision. I made the decision to go...obviously not knowing that was the last time I would see her at home. My friend got a call while we were playing (I didn't have a cell phone) to let me know my Mom had gone into the Intermountain Hospital in Murray with some pretty severe abdominal pain. My brother Mike was there for an internship so she chose to go to that specific hospital.
She was in the hospital but as far as I knew there was no reason to be alarmed so I went to volleyball practice on Monday morning August 17th (my little brother Dema's birthday) and my sister Anna and I went to see her afterwards. She was concerned with her appearance and asked us to buy her some "foaming face wash" and bring her some make up haha. She was so weak and tired I remember helping her brush her teeth. At this point Dr's had learned she had an infection in her uterus and they would need to remove it. It didn't seem like a big deal because she was 54 and didn't need her uterus. They scheduled the surgery immediately and we all told her we loved her and wished her good luck. I will never forget that for some reason she hugged me twice and told me she loved me twice. It was the last thing she ever said to me and the last thing I ever heard her say. We waited about 4 hours through the surgery and were told everything went well we just needed to wait for her to wake up. They allowed two of us in at a time to see her while she was still sleeping but the angry nurse lady wouldn't allow us to touch her or speak to her. I went home, showered, and was planning on going back to see her once she woke up.
I received a call from my sister Shannon a little later. She was crying and told me I needed to grab Dema and run as fast as I could down 1400 North to main street so she could pick us up. Something was wrong with my Mom and we needed to hurry. Dema and I ran down to main street and jumped in the car where Shannon told us the infection had spread and she wasn't doing well. I cried on Dema's lap the whole way there but I still thought that she would be ok, she had to be. We got there and the waiting room filled up pretty quickly with our family and close friends. After many hours and so much hard work from multiple doctors and hospital staff, my brother Mike came out of her room and told us the infection had spread everywhere and that her body was going septic. He said " It's time to say goodbye." I was in disbelief as we all started walking toward her room. In the hallway I fell to the floor because I couldn't do it. I couldn't say goodbye to my Mom... I wasn't ready. I remember my sister Andrea pulling me up and saying "I know Maddy, I'm so sorry, but you have to" through her tears. Seeing her hooked up to so many machines was hard. She couldn't move, speak, or open her eyes but she knew we were there and she could hear us. We all took turns saying goodbye. Holding her hands and kissing her cheek. My brothers Kenny and Denis were serving missions at the time and were only able to say goodbye over the phone. My sweet Dad leaned over and told her that it was OK to go...that we would be OK. I'm sure that was one of the hardest things he's ever done but he loves her so much and seeing her in so much pain was so hard. I know she was fighting as hard as she could. She shed a couple tears, and finally gave up the fight at 12:15 am on Tuesday August 18th, 2009. 15 minutes after Dema's birthday had ended. If you knew her you would know that she did that on purpose; there is no way she would have let herself die on her sweet Dema's birthday.
We drove home and I went to sleep praying with all my might that I would wake up and this would be some sort of awful nightmare. Every morning for the next 5 or 6 months was like losing her all over again. The next few days were filled with an insane amount of food that I couldn't eat (but appreciated all the same) and SO many people who cared about her and our family. I will never forget answering the door for Brad Barton (close family friend) as he collapsed crying on my shoulder. She was so loved. It meant so much to all of us to see how so many people were affected by her loss. Her funeral was beautiful and the church hardly fit everyone in attendance. We used the chapel, the primary room and the relief society room but people still had to stand. We had so much love and support.
School started the next Monday...my Junior year of high school. I went knowing it was what her and my Dad wanted. My teachers were very kind and supportive but I didn't learn a thing and I got my worst 2.7 GPA that term....whoops. I cried all day every day....I cry pretty quietly thank goodness but I usually stuck to the back of the classroom just in case. I bought a lot of water proof mascara. I use to go home and sit in her closet and smell her clothes because they still smelled like her. I was a very angry teenager. I was very angry at God for taking my Mom away from me but I still needed him to get through every minute of the day...and he was there. Even when I pushed him away and refused to admit that I needed him, he was there. I think it was around 5 months when it started to sink in that she wasn't coming back and it was time to move forward with my life. I couldn't just sit there and expect the world to stop turning for me anymore. I had the choice to keep being angry, or to accept the fact that I didn't understand and that was OK. I chose the latter and while I was still a teenager who constantly fought with my Dad, I decided to try and live in a way that would make her proud of me.
I look back now and am so grateful I made that decision. I still fail and come up short a lot but I know she is here for me and I recognize God's hand and the Holy Spirit in all that I do. I went to my first dance without her there... I graduated high school, I got married, I got my associates degree, and I had two beautiful babies who will never know her in this life. I know I will do so much more in this life and my heart will ache for her every time I know she should be there. I am also grateful for what I have gained through this loss. I am grateful that for the 16 years I had her she loved me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. I have never been closer to my siblings or my Dad. We have really pulled together and I couldn't live without each and every one of them. I have an amazing husband and without my Mom's strong influence on my Dad i'm not sure he would have let me marry him straight out of high school like I did. I have needed Braiden so much and am so grateful I didn't have to wait another day to marry him and start our eternity together. I am grateful for the understanding this experience has given me and the opportunity I have had to help others through their losses. I am grateful for the step family that has come into my life and the things I have learned from them. I am grateful for all of these things, however, if I could have her back I would. As long as it meant I could still have my family :) I mean...I'm only human.
I have learned through everything that when someone you know dies, there is a void that is impossible to ignore. No matter how well you knew them that void is still there and it makes us sad. There is never a way to "move on" from a great loss only a way to move forward. Losing someone will never get easier you just get stronger. I remember someone telling me that eventually I'll be able to think of my Mom and smile instead of cry or be sad. I'm still wondering when that will happen but I know that if it never happens that's OK. I also know that it's OK if one day that does happen for me. Our loved ones who have passed have a much greater knowledge and perspective than we do and there is no reason to feel guilty for being happy. I have learned from my close friends what it means to be a true friend in times of need. I have learned the importance of a Mother and because of that I strive every day to be the Mother and wife my family deserves. I've learned that she is my Guardian Angel and has saved me or my family more times than we are even aware.
So be nice to your parents and especially your Mom because there are some of us who would give anything to hear our Mom nag us one more time, force her opinion on us because she cares or make us get out of bed in the morning. Now I am a Mom myself and I realize just how much she must have loved me and just how hard it probably was for her to leave me. She probably misses me just as much as I miss her if not more. I also realize how much she actually did for me throughout my life and I wish I would have appreciated her like she deserved. I wish I would have asked her more questions about things like her political views and how I acted as a child so I could compare it to my children. There are things I may never know about her in this life because our time was cut short. There may not be a person in the world that loves you like your parents so ask them questions, hold them close and truly cherish them.
If you made it...thank you for reading. And if during the time of our loss you ever said thoughts or prayers for me or my family, sent your condolences, wrote us a note or on social media, brought us a gift, stopped by, joined me at the cemetery to see my Mom, or been there for us in any way...just know that each and every one of you made a difference and it means so much to us! It would be impossible to thank each person individually but I hope you'll read this and know I'm talking about you :)
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Where is the Love?
This month I was going to write about losing my Mother; how it happened, how it affected me and how I continue to fight through the pain every second of every day. Instead, I want to get a few things off my chest, in hopes I'm not the only one feeling this way about the response to the LDS church and their new policy.
It is an understatement to say that I'm hurt by the words of people who are not happy with this new policy, some of them who I still consider good friends. Let me explain that I am NOT hurt by people disagreeing with the policy. I am NOT hurt by people thinking it's wrong or something they do not believe in. Each individual person is able to believe what they want and think what they want. I don't think less of anyone for believing differently than I do. Oh but heaven forbid I ask for the same in return. I only ask that those of you who feel the need to post about your disagreement or outrage all over social media to choose your words carefully. I have read a lot on social media about how people believe Mormon's discriminate against LGBTQ, people who get abortions, pretty much anyone that isn't LDS. Let me defend my Mormon self by saying I do not discriminate. I love everyone just like I have been taught every week at church, every year I went to EFY, every conference I have been alive to witness, every young women activity I attended, and every relief society and church function I continue to attend now. I have never been taught to hate anyone. I have only been taught to love unconditionally.
I've seen many things on social media stating Mormons are spreading "hate". Like I already mentioned before, choose your words carefully. Generally stating "Mormons" is grouping me and many people you may know and/or love into that category. This may not always be intentional, but it doesn't mean it isn't hurtful. I know myself pretty well and I know I have made mistakes but in no way do I spread hate. The definition of the noun hate is intense or passionate dislike. If you're going to say that Mormons...every single one of us...are spreading hate, then go ahead and prove that each of us individually has an intense or passionate dislike of the LGBTQ community. Or more specifically, the children in the LGBTQ community. Because I will tell you right now you won't find that with me. Sure you'll probably find some that do...but you'll find that every group or religious party will have people that do not behave according to the doctrine that is taught. Holding Mormons to a higher standard...expecting our members to be without fault...how is that fair? It's not. When this news was leaked on social media the leaders of the church responded. The leaders never said it was out of intense dislike for these kids. In fact, they stated it was out of protection. Whether you believe that or not is not the point. Just tell me something...when you judge this as hatred and spew it out as if it's a fact where are your facts? Where does your knowledge come from? What makes you call the leaders of my church "bigots" who did this out of hatred when they themselves are saying they did it out of protection? What makes you decide to choose hate and anger so quickly without at least trying to look at it from a different perspective? Where is YOUR love? Again, saying and believing these things is an individual choice and an individual right. But when you say hurtful and stereotypical things, you spread more "hate" and "discrimination". This makes you hypocritical. Oh, you're just standing up for what you believe in? Just fighting for what you believe is right? What if I tell you so am I? And everyone else who has supported and sustained our church leaders publicly. Have the same respect for others that you demand for yourselves. It IS possible and more noteworthy to stand up for your beliefs with kindness and understanding.
I've also heard and seen a lot of things saying that us Mormons were brain washed or manipulated into believing the things we do. Wow... give me a little more credit than that. How directly insulting that is to me. I apparently can't think for myself...make the right decisions by myself...or understand the difference between right and wrong. Look where that's gotten me. I have a loving husband and 2 beautiful children who I get to be with for eternity. I have loving parents who "brainwashed" me into being happier than I have ever been in my entire life as well as provided me with the 8 greatest siblings in the entire world. I have strong and dependable in-laws and extended family. I have great friends (not all LDS) that I love and can rely on for anything I will ever need. I have experienced hurt. I have experienced pain. I know what happiness is, and I have it. I'm not saying a person can't be happy without the gospel. I'm only saying that me being Mormon has played the largest part in my eternal happiness. So please, if you respect me, love me, or consider me a friend...be kind...be loving...give people the benefit of the doubt. Even if you hate me, do these things because I promise they will never fail you.
Even though I have made it obvious where I stand with this new policy, I struggle with it too. I am sad and my heart aches for the people who hurt. I understand where this hurt comes from. I did not write this post to persuade anyone to believe what I believe. I am only asking for people with either perspective to try to be kind and understanding. Do not spread more of the hate everyone is complaining about. I am a happy and dedicated Mormon. If that bothers you or offends you, by all means "unfriend" me or "unfollow" me.
It is an understatement to say that I'm hurt by the words of people who are not happy with this new policy, some of them who I still consider good friends. Let me explain that I am NOT hurt by people disagreeing with the policy. I am NOT hurt by people thinking it's wrong or something they do not believe in. Each individual person is able to believe what they want and think what they want. I don't think less of anyone for believing differently than I do. Oh but heaven forbid I ask for the same in return. I only ask that those of you who feel the need to post about your disagreement or outrage all over social media to choose your words carefully. I have read a lot on social media about how people believe Mormon's discriminate against LGBTQ, people who get abortions, pretty much anyone that isn't LDS. Let me defend my Mormon self by saying I do not discriminate. I love everyone just like I have been taught every week at church, every year I went to EFY, every conference I have been alive to witness, every young women activity I attended, and every relief society and church function I continue to attend now. I have never been taught to hate anyone. I have only been taught to love unconditionally.
I've seen many things on social media stating Mormons are spreading "hate". Like I already mentioned before, choose your words carefully. Generally stating "Mormons" is grouping me and many people you may know and/or love into that category. This may not always be intentional, but it doesn't mean it isn't hurtful. I know myself pretty well and I know I have made mistakes but in no way do I spread hate. The definition of the noun hate is intense or passionate dislike. If you're going to say that Mormons...every single one of us...are spreading hate, then go ahead and prove that each of us individually has an intense or passionate dislike of the LGBTQ community. Or more specifically, the children in the LGBTQ community. Because I will tell you right now you won't find that with me. Sure you'll probably find some that do...but you'll find that every group or religious party will have people that do not behave according to the doctrine that is taught. Holding Mormons to a higher standard...expecting our members to be without fault...how is that fair? It's not. When this news was leaked on social media the leaders of the church responded. The leaders never said it was out of intense dislike for these kids. In fact, they stated it was out of protection. Whether you believe that or not is not the point. Just tell me something...when you judge this as hatred and spew it out as if it's a fact where are your facts? Where does your knowledge come from? What makes you call the leaders of my church "bigots" who did this out of hatred when they themselves are saying they did it out of protection? What makes you decide to choose hate and anger so quickly without at least trying to look at it from a different perspective? Where is YOUR love? Again, saying and believing these things is an individual choice and an individual right. But when you say hurtful and stereotypical things, you spread more "hate" and "discrimination". This makes you hypocritical. Oh, you're just standing up for what you believe in? Just fighting for what you believe is right? What if I tell you so am I? And everyone else who has supported and sustained our church leaders publicly. Have the same respect for others that you demand for yourselves. It IS possible and more noteworthy to stand up for your beliefs with kindness and understanding.
I've also heard and seen a lot of things saying that us Mormons were brain washed or manipulated into believing the things we do. Wow... give me a little more credit than that. How directly insulting that is to me. I apparently can't think for myself...make the right decisions by myself...or understand the difference between right and wrong. Look where that's gotten me. I have a loving husband and 2 beautiful children who I get to be with for eternity. I have loving parents who "brainwashed" me into being happier than I have ever been in my entire life as well as provided me with the 8 greatest siblings in the entire world. I have strong and dependable in-laws and extended family. I have great friends (not all LDS) that I love and can rely on for anything I will ever need. I have experienced hurt. I have experienced pain. I know what happiness is, and I have it. I'm not saying a person can't be happy without the gospel. I'm only saying that me being Mormon has played the largest part in my eternal happiness. So please, if you respect me, love me, or consider me a friend...be kind...be loving...give people the benefit of the doubt. Even if you hate me, do these things because I promise they will never fail you.
Even though I have made it obvious where I stand with this new policy, I struggle with it too. I am sad and my heart aches for the people who hurt. I understand where this hurt comes from. I did not write this post to persuade anyone to believe what I believe. I am only asking for people with either perspective to try to be kind and understanding. Do not spread more of the hate everyone is complaining about. I am a happy and dedicated Mormon. If that bothers you or offends you, by all means "unfriend" me or "unfollow" me.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Hello My Name is Dema and I'm an Addict
As you read in my last post 3 of my brothers were adopted from Moldova in 1997. These brothers are Denis, Valek and Dema. When my Mom was pregnant with me she felt very strongly that I was a boy and would see her little boy in her dreams. Then I was born (clearly not a boy) and she felt something was missing. This is one of the main things that convinced her to adopt. When she went to Moldova and saw my three brothers she knew it was their presence that was missing. Dema is only about 3 weeks younger than me so we were instant friends. Maybe more like frenemies at times but we were very close. We went to kindergarten together, we played with the same friends, the same toys (he loved to tear the heads off my barbies) and we were almost always together. Dema stayed in kindergarten another year while I went on to 1st grade. He was a lot younger than everyone in our grade and was still working on his English. Even still, we walked to the bus everyday together, played on the same baseball team (where I was the only girl) and we're both even guilty of wearing each other's clothes. One of my favorite memories from when we were growing up was when we were about 10 or 11 years old. We were walking to the bus stop and Dema had this idea that it was super cool to have every single zipper on his backpack undone. Sure...super cool to have all your assignments and books falling out with every step you took. Me, being the nagging, annoying, bossy older sister that I was kept getting mad at him and telling him to zip it up. He wouldn't listen so after I picked up his papers for the 100th time I started to zip it up myself. Dema turned around so fast and clocked me right in the nose. Full fist...held nothing back. Then he took off running as I chased after him. That afternoon...we walked home together...friends again. That was usually how it was with us. As the youngest Dema got teased a lot and I admire him for handling it as well as he did. His older siblings could be terrible to him...Jenny Meek if you're reading this I still feel awful about the time we locked Dema in the tennis court and stuck our gum in his hair when he tried to climb out. He had a bald spot on his head for weeks.
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| I have no idea how to rotate this but this is me and my 3 brothers Dema, Denis and Valek |
As we grew into teenagers Dema began getting into a little trouble. First it started with missing curfew and smaller things like that. But as the years went by he started searching for trouble. I encourage everyone to watch the videos the LDS church has released on addiction because it will truly enlighten you on what addiction really is and what it does to one's brain. Dema has always been an addict. I recently read some letters my Mom sent to my sister Melissa on her mission and she talks about how Dema can't keep his hands off candy. She talked about how it seemed impossible for him to stare at the marshmallow and not eat it...even if he was promised 2 marshmallows at the end of 5 minutes. I swear he could have won some sort of record for eating candy...it was almost impressive. This may not seem like it relates to his addiction...but it is one of the signs of an addictive personality. Sadly...when Dema got older he ditched some really good friends in search of people who he felt more comfortable around. Not saying these weren't good kids...but they were definitely not good friends and were not good influences on him. However, Dema made his own decisions. He was strong enough to say no to that first drink and that first cigarette but he didn't. And because of that first drink Dema became an instant alcoholic. Because of that first cigarette he became addicted. Does anybody not believe it can happen like this? Because statistics prove that millions of people who also suffer from addiction, in the US alone, will tell you differently.
Because of these addictions Dema was constantly kicked out of the house. He dropped out of high school and lived at different friends houses. He did end up finishing high school later but it was a lot harder and a lot less fun than it would have been had he just stuck it out in school. He decided to live a lifestyle that was very different from our family's. We always knew when he was in deep because he would distance himself as much as he possibly could. Dema has an incredibly huge heart... and he couldn't stand to see what he was doing to his family because he was not ready to change. He didn't want it...at least not enough. The worst part of this stage in Dema's life was when he started stealing from us...my Dad in particular. He looked for someone to blame for all his problems and that person happened to be my Dad. I'm sure we can all guess what he used the money for. It was a really sad time in my life when I realized I couldn't trust my own brother...my lifelong best friend. The married couples in our family were afraid to tell him where we lived...my dad installed a camera security system throughout the house... and each bedroom or important room in my home had a combination lock on it. Of course...most of this was thanks to my older brother Valek who stole much more than Dema and lived the same lifestyle so I can't credit this completely to Dema haha. My parents sent Dema to a sort of rehab facility for minors called Lifeline when I was a sophomore in High School. I cried a lot that day. My parents unexpectedly pulled Dema out of Lifeline in July of 2009 and only a month later my Mom passed away. That was a big turning point for both of my brothers and they started making some very bad decisions. When I was a junior in high school my Dad tried sending Dema to another facility named Westridge. It was an amazing environment and being there really allowed him to flourish. Dema has always been an INCREDIBLE natural athlete. He played every sport Westridge had to offer and was the leading scorer on every team. He averaged over 30 points a game in basketball. He was at Westridge for 10 months I believe (correct me if I'm wrong family). He came home a much different person but the temptation got the better of him as he dove right back in to his old habits.
Since he was now 18... he started taking some frequent trips to jail. He was in jail the day I got married. I got to talk to him over a phone and through a screen in front of all his inmate friends and tell him I wished he could be there on the most important day of my life. This was also the way I told him I was pregnant with my first child. He has missed at least 2 or 3 of his own birthdays in jail. I can't even tell you all the reasons he was booked....he probably could though ha. Around this time last year he got really drunk one night and "took some pills". That's all he remembers. I remember getting a call saying that Dema was in the ICU...he had alcohol poisoning and his organs were failing. Other family members could probably tell this story better than I but what I do know still terrifies me. A friend found Dema passed out in a neighbors apartment. He hadn't moved in over 24 hours...how does nobody get concerned by this? Wait...I guess the right question would be...how does somebody realize this...lock him inside the apartment and leave him there in fear they will get in trouble for drug possession? When does fear for yourself become more important than a human life? My little brothers life. I'll gladly tell you how....drugs...meth in this case. It took me a long time to separate addict Dema from my brother Dema. They were never the same person. So I have to remember this with others as well....or at least hope they were under the influence when they chose to let my brother die alone on their couch in their meth lab. Because no sane person in their uninfluenced right mind would do that...right? When paramedics got there they told my step brother Robby (who I have to thank for finding Dema and saving his life) that he would have been dead within the hour. I went to the ICU to see him with every intention of scolding him and yelling at him. How could he do this to me? To our family? How can he not know what he means to us? But when I saw him hooked up to machines and tubes...I lost all my fight. We all spent as much time as we could with him in the hospital...telling him we loved him and he needed to change so that this wouldn't happen again. I had high hopes that THIS would be his moment...the moment he would realize what he was doing was literally killing him. Imagine my shock when he got out of the hospital and was kicked right back out of the house within a matter of weeks.
Dema has always asked me to give him tough love. I have always been honest with him and he has always been honest with me... for the most part ;) I have had countless conversations with Dema where we are both sobbing and I am telling him he is worth it. He is worth every tear and every effort I have spent on him. He deserves to have the life he wants. He would be the first to tell you that he made the decisions that got him where he is. He has the biggest heart, he is so thoughtful and kind. If he has ever been mean to someone....while he is sober...then I can promise it did not come naturally to him. My 6' 2" brother is almost impossible to make angry or hostile...EVEN when intoxicated I have only heard about or witnessed it a couple times. He is an awesome uncle and all the grandkids remember him even though they only see him once in a blue moon. He has not even begun to reach his potential and I can't wait for him to realize all the things he is capable of. I can't wait for him to blow himself away.
"Hello my name is Dema and I'm an addict" are the words he started with yesterday night when we were discussing his decision to go to rehab. He proceeded to say all the things I have already stated. He has dug himself in a hole and only he can get himself out. He has cheated death. He owes this to himself and to his family. He also retold the short story of the man who looks back on his life and realizes that in the hardest times...there are only one set of footprints in the sand when Christ had promised him he would always be with him. Only to find out that it was during those times Christ carried him. He is finally to the point where he wants to change enough to get help. Sad that it had to take this long but grateful it didn't take longer! My heart is breaking because he is leaving and it will be a long time before I see or hear from him. But even more than that...my heart is BURSTING as it seems like he has finally realized what I have known all along...he is so worth it. He deserves it. And he CAN do it. The question has only ever been...WILL he do it? He won't be able to read this for a while but if you do read it Dema... I love you more than you will ever know...I care more than I can stand it. You have more support now than you have ever had in your life. Learn to lean on those you love but more importantly learn to lean on your Savior Jesus Christ...that is what he died so painfully on the cross for. For what you are going through right now. Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith. Again, I love you.
Some advice I would give to anyone going through a similar situation I have. Learn to separate sober from intoxicated. Love unconditionally. Never give up on them and never lose faith in them. If you are ever unsafe...distance as much as you need to but don't cut them off (unless necessary...some situations are definitely more dangerous than others). DON'T enable them. Make them work but know when it is necessary to help them... pray to know the difference. Always tell them how it is...don't sugar coat. Don't forget to tell them you love them. Make sure they know you do not support what they are doing...in any way. Praise them, praise them, praise them when they make good decisions. Pray for them. If you made it through this post...pat yourself on the back! And pray for my sweet brother as this may be the hardest thing he will ever have to do.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
For Those of You Who Would Like to Know
This is for those of you who would like to know a little about me before I start posting. First of all I would like to say I am no pro at writing so you can keep your grammar, punctuation and spelling corrections to yourself. Starting with my childhood...I grew up in a family of 11. There are 9 kids including me. My Mother had 6 kids and we adopted 3 when I was 4 years old. The earliest memory I have is the day my 3 brothers walked downstairs and I met them for the first time. I don't remember a time without them and for that I'm grateful because I truly believe I was blessed with their presence in my life. We adopted my 3 brothers in 1997 from a tiny country in Europe called Moldova. My parent's had no intention to adopt more than one but when my Mom saw these 3 brothers together she knew in her heart they were her sons. It took a little while but in August of 1997 my family was made complete. After over 22 great but not-so-easy years I wouldn't trade a single family member for anything. And that's the truth.
I grew up in what some of you might see as your average LDS family household. We went to church on Sunday, we had family night occasionally when life slowed down, we read scriptures and said prayer on most nights. My parents love the gospel but we were by no means perfect. We did other things as well. We all played sports, went to school, fought with each other and worked our butts off every Saturday and almost every day in the summer so we could earn privileges to play with our friends. The reason I mentioned my LDS faith first is not by chance. My religion is the center of my life. I am so proud of that. My religion makes me better, it makes me happier. It makes me a better wife, mother and contributing member of society. Despite what some may think about LDS doctrine and principle, this gospel teaches me to love everyone unconditionally, to forgive unconditionally, and to be the best possible version of me. I strive every day to be the person my Heavenly Father knows I can be and I'm sorry to say that I probably fail more times than I succeed. But hey, nobody is perfect. I was not brainwashed or conditioned into believing the things I believe. I was not forced in any way, shape or form. I have, in fact, had serious doubts of my own and explored my spirituality in search of the truth on multiple occasions.
The most prominent occasion where my faith wavered was the year I lost my Mom. I had just turned 16 and was starting my junior year of High School in less than a week. I will get more into this in another post...but my faith was most definitely tried as I was angry at God for taking my Mom away from me. In short, I chose to overcome that anger and turn to my Heavenly Father. He lifted me up. He got me through some of the darkest times and still gets me through the rough days even after I was so awful and ungrateful for so long. That is a fact and is not up for debate. This is my truth, my KNOWLEDGE.
Anyway, on to some lighter subject material. Due to this unfortunate event and some others...I was forced to grow up a little faster than planned. I married the love of my life less than 2 months after I turned 18. His name is Braiden and wow I love him. Best thing that ever happened to me. He is hardworking, determined, confident in all he does, and a worthy priesthood holder. He always has me either laughing or rolling my eyes haha. I won't lie and say that marriage is blissful and easy. Actually, the greatest part about it is that we both love each other enough to face the trying and uncomfortable situations that come our way. "Come what may, and love it."People always ask me if I regret getting married as young as I did...nope. Honestly... I regret that my Mom had to die and I was ready for this grown up life quicker than originally planned but it was the best thing for me to get married when I did and I have never once doubted that.
Last paragraph I promise...4 years later and we have been blessed with the 2 most beautiful children there ever were. Seriously. We love them. My daughter Josie came on March 18, 2014...also my Angel Mother's birthday. She is sweet, so smart, beautiful, hilarious, interactive, outgoing, affectionate, imaginative and extremely important to me. I know us Mom's say it a lot...but it's true that you never know how much you can love someone until you have a child. My son Nixon came on April 11, 2015. Whoops. Not planned but such a blessing because he is pretty awesome. His personality is just starting to come out but he is also affectionate, smart, beautiful and ridiculously hyperactive. He is my momma's boy and I love it. It is not possible to love these kids more than I do. It completely consumes and overwhelms me at times. I wonder how I got so lucky. I hear that children in heaven get some sort of say in their parents. If that's so...I feel so honored and blessed because these are some special souls. Well... that's me and my simple life. Now that life has slowed down a little bit I will try to keep this updated at least somewhat regularly. Thanks for reading if you made it!
I grew up in what some of you might see as your average LDS family household. We went to church on Sunday, we had family night occasionally when life slowed down, we read scriptures and said prayer on most nights. My parents love the gospel but we were by no means perfect. We did other things as well. We all played sports, went to school, fought with each other and worked our butts off every Saturday and almost every day in the summer so we could earn privileges to play with our friends. The reason I mentioned my LDS faith first is not by chance. My religion is the center of my life. I am so proud of that. My religion makes me better, it makes me happier. It makes me a better wife, mother and contributing member of society. Despite what some may think about LDS doctrine and principle, this gospel teaches me to love everyone unconditionally, to forgive unconditionally, and to be the best possible version of me. I strive every day to be the person my Heavenly Father knows I can be and I'm sorry to say that I probably fail more times than I succeed. But hey, nobody is perfect. I was not brainwashed or conditioned into believing the things I believe. I was not forced in any way, shape or form. I have, in fact, had serious doubts of my own and explored my spirituality in search of the truth on multiple occasions.
The most prominent occasion where my faith wavered was the year I lost my Mom. I had just turned 16 and was starting my junior year of High School in less than a week. I will get more into this in another post...but my faith was most definitely tried as I was angry at God for taking my Mom away from me. In short, I chose to overcome that anger and turn to my Heavenly Father. He lifted me up. He got me through some of the darkest times and still gets me through the rough days even after I was so awful and ungrateful for so long. That is a fact and is not up for debate. This is my truth, my KNOWLEDGE.
Anyway, on to some lighter subject material. Due to this unfortunate event and some others...I was forced to grow up a little faster than planned. I married the love of my life less than 2 months after I turned 18. His name is Braiden and wow I love him. Best thing that ever happened to me. He is hardworking, determined, confident in all he does, and a worthy priesthood holder. He always has me either laughing or rolling my eyes haha. I won't lie and say that marriage is blissful and easy. Actually, the greatest part about it is that we both love each other enough to face the trying and uncomfortable situations that come our way. "Come what may, and love it."People always ask me if I regret getting married as young as I did...nope. Honestly... I regret that my Mom had to die and I was ready for this grown up life quicker than originally planned but it was the best thing for me to get married when I did and I have never once doubted that.
Last paragraph I promise...4 years later and we have been blessed with the 2 most beautiful children there ever were. Seriously. We love them. My daughter Josie came on March 18, 2014...also my Angel Mother's birthday. She is sweet, so smart, beautiful, hilarious, interactive, outgoing, affectionate, imaginative and extremely important to me. I know us Mom's say it a lot...but it's true that you never know how much you can love someone until you have a child. My son Nixon came on April 11, 2015. Whoops. Not planned but such a blessing because he is pretty awesome. His personality is just starting to come out but he is also affectionate, smart, beautiful and ridiculously hyperactive. He is my momma's boy and I love it. It is not possible to love these kids more than I do. It completely consumes and overwhelms me at times. I wonder how I got so lucky. I hear that children in heaven get some sort of say in their parents. If that's so...I feel so honored and blessed because these are some special souls. Well... that's me and my simple life. Now that life has slowed down a little bit I will try to keep this updated at least somewhat regularly. Thanks for reading if you made it!
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