The sweetest things

Lillian and Dan Smith lived in a small town in California where I lived when I was growing up. I remember Lillian as a loving a vivacious woman who was sweet and good and much like my mom. She and my mom were good friends. My mom forwarded this email to me today, from Dan - an update on Lillian's health. I wanted to share it with you (if there's anyone out there. LOL). It is what life is made of, and what life is all about.

Subject: Prognosis
Date: Wed, 13 Oct 2010 19:16:21 -0600

Lillian spent last Tuesday through Saturday in the hospital because of diabetic issues. Saturday night she was placed in Rehab. to give me a chance to rest. Monday morning early, I found her in a diabetic coma at the rehab. and she was transported again to the hospital.
The Dr. recommended she come home today and hospice enter the picture. Her outlook is six days, six months, or six years. They don't know, other than her Kidneys are failing. Monday all of us including the Dr. didn't think she would last the day. However she has
a way of fooling us. They recommended we take her off all medicine, including insulin. I asked if we took her off insulin how long would
she live, "if" she went back into a coma. The answer was about seven days. I said remove her from all her other pills, but I will keep
giving her insulin. I just can't put her through what I seen Monday.
Today I gave her a shower when we arrived home and she was almost impossible to shower. I will be glad to let hospice assist from
this point on.
Her memory is good at times and other times she doesn't even know her little dog. She had no idea how may kids she had and what
their names were. However this evening she is a little better. A lot more alert and talkative.
Hospice said they are not necessary end of life assistance. I feel a little better about that. They come out tomorrow to evaluate and
try once more to talk me into a Hospital bed for her. I want her in bed where I wake her up about four times and talk to her
or test her blood, if I don't like they way she sounds. I can tell most of the time when she is having blood sugar troubles.
If she were in a hospital bed it would be in the living room and I know I would sleep on the couch.
I don't want you too assume all is doom and gloom with us. We do fine and I really don't mind assisting her and trying to
get her to talk. Underneath her problems is still the girl I married...............Dan

Better than worse

An update from Mary states that her oncologist/gynocologist says he is pretty sure the business with her ovary is a cyst, not a tumor. Also her blood counts are good, so they're continuing with her chemo as scheduled. I'm not sure about her lymph nodes. Waiting on that answer . . .

She's very positive and upbeat. Good for her.

More . . .

My mom just let me know that Mary's cancer seems to have spread. She doesn't know any more. I'm trying to find out more. They started to do chemo, and it looked like the tumors were shrinking. It looked good, but then they did a full body scan, and they found more in her lymph nodes and an ovary. I really would like to know what's going on.

Prayers for Mary

So, yesterday I got a call from my oldest sister, Mary. On Friday she received news of a biopsy she had been waiting on. She has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was funny for her to call me. Even she noted the awkwardness and strangeness of the moment. As I mentioned before, we are not close. Other than our parents we have nothing in common. She is led by her logic and I by my emotions. She felt compelled to call all of her sisters to tell them of her diagnosis, to let them know of this increased familial risk of cancer.

It was an interesting experience for me. Why? Not in the way you might expect. You see - I've lived a lifetime of pain and illness. This has been my life. I've scarcely known a day of good health. No one in my family has ever understood the way I have suffered and endured and the way I have learned to view life and its unexpected ups and downs. I told my sister as much. It was an interesting experience for me because I was sad about the prospect of her having to suffer in the way I suffer every single day. Somehow I guess I thought I had managed to shoulder all of the pain and illness of the entire family. I know that sounds stupid. Yeah, of course it does. And why would I think such a stupid thing, especially for a sister I've never been close to?

Really funny - at the end of the conversation I told Mary I loved her. Her response was something like "Well, thanks for that." Don't you think that's odd? See, that's my family for you. Dandy, eh?

But she didn't call for my support. I'm not really sure why she called. She just needed to. I respect that she had that need, and I told her that I would be here for her, if she needed me. At times when I have been ill throughout my life, Mary has called to check in on me. She has been one of the only ones. Despite the fact that we don't understand one another she has kept track of me. She is a good woman in her way, and I respect her. We may not share a sisterly love, but we share something, and she did call. That's something, right?

I don't know. It isn't about me. This is all about her. It does bring up my unsettled feelings for her, feelings I just keep trying to push aside, because they will never be returned to my satisfaction. The truth is that I can't make people love me the way I love them. My own yearning leaves me feeling empty, and that is my own failing, I suppose. I can receive from others no more and no less than they are capable of giving.

So, for Mary, I offer my love and my prayers. I offer my understanding heart because I know the pain that comes from years of physical torment and the fears that accompany them. I have walked through their baptizing fire, and I can walk some distance with you, if you have need of me. I can be your friend, if you are seeking one. If you want me, I am here.

Sisters . . . or observations from a bathroom stall

I have 5 sisters. I always thought that really meant something. LOL

Awhile ago, Darrin and I went to the Monte L. Bean Life Science Museum at BYU with our son. We spent some time walking around, looking at the exhibits, having some fun. As usually happens with me, my bladder began to call to me. Off I traipsed to the bathroom. As I sat down in one of the 3 ancient stalls, I had an epiphany.

Almost all of my sisters and I have gone to BYU. The one that hasn't lived right by there for years. All of us have been to that museum. All of us have taken our kids there. Even my mom has been there. It struck me, as I sat there on that toilet, looking at the walls of the stall that had undoubtedly been there since the Eisenhower administration, that each and every one of my sisters and my mom had probably sat upon the very throne upon which I sat! What an intriguing and ironic thought!

You see, at that point in time, it struck me as ironic because I felt certain that my buttocks were firmly planted where theirs had surely been planted before, and yet, I would likely never see any of them again. I began to cry. Yes, right there in the bathroom stall of the Monte L. Bean Life Science Museum on the BYU campus, I cried like a baby.

I have always craved, even pined for a relationship with my sisters. Oh, what I would have given for a real sister! You know the type - late night talks, giggling, hugging, weekend visits, long talks on the phone, excited to see each other, "Oh, how I've missed you!" kind of sister! But alas! No. Born one of six sisters, and even blessed with three sisters-in-law, I was never so lucky to have one of them who wanted to be my friend.

Was I so undesirable as all that? See, I grew up wondering that? I wish I could say I had outgrown that question. I wish I could say I had matured beyond that insecurity. I'm still just that lonely girl who thinks there must surely be something wrong with me that none of my sisters want me.

Mary is my oldest sister. She's nearly 20 years older than me. I can see why she wouldn't be interested in me. I mean, she's old enough to be my mom, right? But as I grew, I tried so hard to connect with her. I saw her make friends with my sister who is 2 years older than me, and she just didn't seem interested in me. She just never seemed to approve of me. I really love her husband, though. He's such a good guy. I never feel clumsy around him, like I do around her.

Kathy is my next oldest sister. Oh, how I used to worship her! I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her! I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. Then I grew up, and I still thought she was the bees knees. When I was in college she asked me to come spend the night with her when she was alone and having a miscarriage. I was scared to death, but I had to be there for her. I adored her, and would never have left her alone. Then, years later, we had a difference of opinion, and she decided she was done with me. She hasn't spoken to me in several years. She won't have anything to do with me.

Cindy is next down the line. When my sister just older than I am was born, she "claimed" her as her baby. Then when I came along, Cindy already had one, so she didn't need me. LOL That's the way it has always been, I suppose. She really has had no real need for me. It has always felt that way. I have tried so hard to force my way into her life. I guess she really just doesn't understand how desperately I have needed her love. How can you make someone love you? I know - you can't. I couldn't. I've seen her try, but it was always forced. You can't pretend such things. It just always seemed like she was pretending. I wish she could just figure out how to be my friend, and stop treating me like a little girl.

And then there's Beth. Since Cindy claimed Sarah as "her" baby, Beth claimed me, by default. I really did love Beth. Oh, I followed her around like a lost puppy dog. She could do absolutely no wrong in my eyes. Beth is 8 years older than I am. When I was little she took me places with her, and her friends would tell me how much I looked like her. I was so proud of that because I thought she was so pretty. She was my hero. When we would go on family trips I would snuggle on her lap. She was my "Bethie", and I was her "Ruthie". In our adult years, I continued to give her my heart as I did when I was little. I thought we were the best of friends. I supported her through her times of heartache. I was there for her when she needed me. And when the most horrible thing in my entire life came upon me, she tore my heart out and left me bloody and dying.

Last but not least, there is Sarah. She never liked me, not for a second. My stomach turns when I think of her. I know that I deluded myself into believing that she cared for me at times. I would have given my life for just one kind word from her at any time. I agonized over every minute I was with her. I lived in hell by her side. She was the most cruel person I have ever known. We shared a bedroom all of our growing years. We even lived together in college. Everyone thought we were great friends - that would be because I just followed her around everywhere and tried everything I could think of to please her. I wanted her approval so desperately. I talked like her. I dressed like her. I wanted her friends. I wanted her to LOVE me!!! She was only 2 years older than me, and I always just thought we should have been friends. It made sense to me. Why wouldn't we be friends? It was obvious, wasn't it? But when we were quite young, she had a new friend over - Lora Miller. I remember the day quite distinctly. I remember the introduction, word for word: "This is my sister, Ruth. But I hate her." And that was it. Life pattern set. End of story. Script written for the rest of my life with her. You might think that was just a silly sibling thing that would pass. It never did. I was only a convenience for her when someone better wasn't around, and there was usually someone better around. We haven't spoken in over a year. The last conversation we had was via email, and she made sure to let me know what a horrible nuisance I had always been to her growing up. I wrote back, releasing her from that burden once and for all.

Other women have come and gone in my life. I have desperately yearned for a sister. I have found other sisters who have had great love for me. My own mother left me, and then returned to me. She loves me.

And yet, I still feel this empty place where my own sisters should be. Shouldn't they be there? Am I wrong to feel this? Is something wrong with me that they don't want me? What is it about me, that a lifetime of being who I am has just turned them away? Why can they just not accept me for who I am? In my time of greatest crisis they turned me out, deserted me and left me to die alone.

Why is it that I still miss them?

Fix You

It was a year ago that I tried to kill myself. This is a very difficult month for me. I wish July would just go away. My emotions are so full, I find myself crying often, and feeling alone a great deal. My little family is very dear to me. Darrin is precious. I know that the Lord cradles me close. I feel the Savior's presence often. Even with these blessings, this is a trying time.

Leah had surgery on Wednesday of this week, and Tori will have surgery on Wednesday of next week. It seems almost as if these things have come at this time to occupy my mind so I will have less time to think of myself. I suppose I should be grateful for the timing, and yet I just can't find any way to be grateful for my children's suffering. I want them better now. I want to fix them and make them better now. I would take their pain and keep it for myself if I could . . .



When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Grandpa Norris

Last night we went to see a delightful fireworks show. It was a real humdinger, I tell ya! Out of the blue, in the middle of the show, I was struck by the strongest feeling that my Grandpa Norris was there. I could feel him all around me. I kept thinking how this was just the thing he would have really loved. The music was loud, and I was singing along, just like he would have. He used to "deedle-deedle-dee" and hum along to things that had no words and he would bounce me on his knee like a grandpa does. He was so sweet and affectionate. Oh, how I loved him!

I found myself crying in the middle of the fireworks, big tears rolling down my cheeks, I missed him so much. It was so emotional!

Grandpa was made of joy and love and all good things. He knew how to take every moment, even the ones filled with sorrow, and find the good. He taught me how to be happy in spite of the bad things that come along, to find humor in the pain, and I'll be forever grateful to him for that.

I love you, grandpa, and I miss you every day! Thank you for the joy you've given me.

This song reminds me of grandpa: