Grateful for a Beautiful Life

I always seem to start my posts with "Wow, it's been a while!"  I mean, it's true, but I really suck at this blogging thing.  I'm not going to update too much on our life...it would take way too long.  But, since our last post, we had another baby.  Her name is Paige, she is now 2 years old.  She is pure sunshine and a perfect person to have in our family.  Ethan is 5, Sydney is 3.

I guess I'm posting because I was given a challenge to post everyday for one year about things I am grateful for.  As much as I like that idea, I know that's never going to happen.  However, I do feel very grateful for a lot of things, so I am going to kind of sound off about a few experiences that I've had and kind of go from there.

Last year was a hard one.  Beyond hard.  The hardest year of my life up to this point.  Our mortgage was too high, my mom and grandma were on the verge of homelessness, Gene's job was going downhill, it was just one thing after another.  It's safe to say that I'm so glad the year is over.  Ecstatic even.  Everyone keeps telling me that I've done well.  "You endured!" they say.  I wish I could say that was true.  I mean yeah, I got through it, but not with a good attitude.  That is something that I feel shame over.  It hurts to think about it.

Trying to solve everyone's problems, we decided to have mom and grandma move in with us.  The moving process was no fun.  Grandma and Grandpa were some serious paper hoarders.  Paper everywhere.  I can't even put it into words.  But nonetheless, we got everything moved.  The first few weeks were fine.  Everyone was adjusting to the new situation.  Our family moved downstairs while our new housemates lived upstairs.  Of course, after a while things got more uncomfortable.  Two families trying to live together is never easy.  There was some fighting...alright, a lot of fighting.  Gene and I were ready to move out.  It was bad.  After things had calmed down a bit, something happened to me...

I was making a nighttime snack around 9PM.  I was hitting the lights and getting ready to head downstairs when I was literally stopped where I stood.  I had a thought, "Go kiss your Grandma and tell her you love her."  I used to do that every night when they first moved in.  Once things got more settled in, I kind of stopped doing it.  I thought to myself "It's 9PM.  Grandma goes to bed at 6.  I'll just talk to her tomorrow."  I took a few steps toward the stairs.  One again I was stopped.  This time the "thought" came to me as a demand.  "GO KISS YOUR GRANDMA AND TELL HER YOU LOVE HER!"  So, I figured, what could it hurt?  I could use a visit with my grandma.  If she's awake, I'll say goodnight to her.  I went in.  She was awake.  We visited a few minutes.  She told me how much she loved my kids.  She had said that Ethan had splashed her with water that day and she didn't like it.  She was trying to help me with suggestions on how to control him a little better.  Not rude like, just trying to help.  We wrapped up the conversation and I leaned in to hug and kiss her.  I told her I loved her.  I stood up and she took my hand. I visited a few minutes longer.  I said I love you again.  I went to let go of her hand when she looked directly into my eyes and said "I love you too."  She held onto my hand a few seconds longer and I left the room.  That was the last time I ever talked to my grandma.  The next morning she had a stroke.  That whole week was awful.  Hospice had already been coming for about a month.  Now they were coming everyday.  She slept and slept and slept.  Two days later, she had another stroke.  Hospice would give us a time frame of how long she would be with us.  Everyday her organs would be shutting down even more.  I never wanted to leave her.  I would wait on pins and needles to hear her next breath.  I was terrified to go to to bed.  That Thursday I had some time alone with her.  My mom never left her side and was in need of a shower.  I sat with grandma.  I told her how I loved her.  I told her I was so happy to have her in my home.  I thanked her for every piece of advice she'd ever given me.  I apologized for the contention in my home.  I thanked her for every story she'd ever written, every comic strip she cut out.  My heart ached.  I sat there and just talked.  I sobbed with her almost lifeless hand against my cheek.  I thanked her for loving me.  For loving my family.  I thanked her for being such a wonderful example to me. I asked her so say "hi" to my grandpa and take care of my old dog for me.  I knew she wasn't going to be with us much longer.  Friday came and she was still here.  But, today was the day.  She would leave us.  I arranged for my kids to stay at the in-law's.  I got the day off from doing daycare.  I knew this was it.  Family came and went all day long.  I didn't eat much, but at lunchtime I had to have something.  As I was preparing my food, I looked over to the doorway of the kitchen.  There in the doorway was a man dressed in white.  Perfectly groomed grey hair, crisp line down his pants, white shoes, white tie, white belt.  What I believe to be a spirit in my home to be with my grandma as she left her mortal body.  He was there for one short second and then he was gone.  At two o'clock we all came together and gathered around grandma.  Her breathing was 30-40 seconds between breaths.  It was the longest and shortest seven minutes of my life.  She breathed in one last half breath.  At 2:07 she peacefully left this earth with her hand in mine.

My heart is still broken.  I've been sobbing even writing this.  However, with all of these experiences, I have grown closer to my Heavenly Father.  I hadn't been sure I had ever felt the Holy Ghost before.  I know that those "thoughts" I had about telling Grandma goodnight were promptings of the Holy Ghost.  I know I saw and angel of the Lord in my home.  We have been so blessed.  It was through the power of the gospel and Holy Priesthood that I've been able to feel comforted in my grieving.  I am so grateful for the Plan of Salvation.  I know I will see her again. I am so grateful for her and her beautiful life. I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.  I am so thankful for President Monson, our true and living prophet.  I feel bad that it took the passing away of my dear Grandma to explode my testimony of the gospel, but that's how it's worked out.  I guess I owe that to her too.

So there it is.  Something I'm grateful for.  To finish the story, Mom moved to Colorado.  She got approved for disability, so now she'll have some income.  We were afraid we were losing out home, but we are in the middle of a loan modification.  Gene is still employed but is looking for a new job.  We have some promising leads.  My life rocks.  God is good.