A few boxes here and there

 

 

It's been a year.

I seriously think someone posted this

thought on Facebook just for me. 

(Someday when I read this I'll say,

wow - remember Facebook?)

(huh, and you're saying - remember Blogs?)

 

I have not survived this year with grace.

Grace is a gift - and I keep opening empty boxes,

or I think they are empty.

What I have found is that they are empty for a reason.

They are meant to be filled again.

 

So during this night I have considered filling

these boxes that are waiting to collect moments

of gratitude, and hope, and love.

and there they were,

all of them.

 

 

 

New babies.

New jobs.

New sacred places to rest my broken heart.

New friends,

New hope for better health.

New goals,

New dreams

New eras of life that need to be explored.

New reasons to have more courage.

New abundances of blessings only dreamt of.

New states where my children live.

New homes where they will stay close by.

New baptisms in our family.

New commitments to my faith.

New reasons to pray.

New friends to cherish.

More, of all the good stuff

I'm looking for.

New Grace.

 

Happy New Year

 

(Most excellent family of mine)

and

Happy July

Little Miss Big Sister.

 

 

Um. Where have you been Momma Bear?

So apparently, life goes on if you blog or not... but it sure makes for long periods of time unaccounted for.  I think that this week has been the first time I've exhaled since last fall.  I credit my family for holding me up and keeping my faith in many things going.  Lucky me.   I feel that a million years has passed in the last 4 months and I have failed the blog world.  I hope that the stalker from the Netherlands has missed me.  Never the less - life has changed a bit... and I have no pictures.  Just some random words.

 

I left the Assisted Living world as a Med Tech.  I watched my most precious ancient leave this world.  I held her in my arms and broke the news to her that there wasn't going to be any Cheese Puff Balls in heaven.  She hadn't moved in a few days, and she broke out into a smile.  She left that night.  I know she's happy.  I have watched so many of them leave, and I was getting heart heavy, so I changed my plan.

 

I took a giant leap and tried for my millionth time to move to a local hospital in Labor and Delivery.  This time - they wanted me - and I nearly had a stroke.  I interviewed with some of the most amazing nurses, they were tough chicks, but they had to be.  I sat in the waiting room with those interviewing that were 1/4th my age, and my heart sank.  But I put myself out there and honestly answered the questions asked and left it all in their hands.  The day I got the job I cried.  I never thought I would.

 

I spent the next few months passing off all of my certifications to be able to be an OB tech.  I get to scrub in with doctors and pass all of their lovely surgical tools, and see people come into the world instead of leave the world.  I've never been so scared in my life - but felt that it was always something that the big guy upstairs helped me with every single time I bring the blade up to a doctor.  There are some sad days, but I know of the plan, and I know that those precious ones that do not make it, are safe and sound,  I care for their mommies and comfort them.  We do need to have experiences in all things. 

 

This new chapter has consumed me to this point.  Every single spare day was spent studying, and scrubbing in, and passing off, and failing, and trying again.  It stretched me to the limits of who I am and what I thought I could do.  But it came as a sacrifice, as I felt I've let my family down with Grandma things and family things - with random shifts and required courses.  For this I have beat myself up.  Today - I have to let that go - and see that it is what needed to happen.  Things may... (carefully said) chill out and I can enjoy only 3 12 hour shifts instead of endless hours.  I wish my mom could have known what I've done.  I wish I could be more, but I am good with the present smile at hand.

 

Tonight - it's a long shift.  There are tiny sounds of beautiful babies from the rooms.  There are moms to comfort, co-workers to team up with, and needs here and there.  I work in a safe, warm, beautiful place of beauty.  There are babies to bathe, heartbeats to hear, broken water stories to tell, and Lorna Doones to snack on.  I have a moment to breathe.  To count my blessings of this hard earned goal, and to finally wear those really fun hard earned green scrubs.  I learn new lessons every time I walk into an OR.  I share those moments of joy, and I, perhaps am guilty of having a tear stained mask.  All worth the sacrifices.  I'm excited for the new little ones that will come into our immediate family and my extended family.  They are obviously going to be the cutest ones ever.  Blessings.

 

Perhaps the Surgical Gods will allow me to be forgiven for neglecting my family - and rejoice in new plans for this new year. The leap of faith was worth it.  It taught me something very important about myself, and it was a humble lesson to learn. 

 

Gown up, it's time to work. 

little tender mercies

and so... the calls and tears of "I'm not pregnant this month" came to an end and the miracle of life began.  I watched my sweet daughter going through the heartaches of wanting to be a mom again and we shared those tears monthly.  She was grateful to be a mom to a handsome son already but her heart is so big she wanted to give more love.  This little amazing human being began his journey to earth.  Developing day by day and dream by dream.  I waited in the waiting room the day he was born.  Many nurses passed me by and handed me Kleenexes - and I assured them that they were tears of joy.  This little man came into the world strong and healthy.  This little man added to the tradition of the 'Merriman Men'... and oh such a handsome one he is.  So on this Grandparents day - I wanted to shout out to my Grandkids - all six - unless anyone has a secret... that you are magnificent - and grand - and important - and priceless - and wanted - and expected to be the best you can be in this life - by me.  "Every baby is the sweetest and the best"  Thank you big guy upstairs for sending yet another miracle.  Oh and thank you Mom - I know you held this one before he came - and put that gigantic butt dimple on his chin.  Priceless.  Enjoy Life little man.  You are loved.

mmmmm..... dirt.

It's time to dig in the dirt.  Oh I love dirt.  I have my rituals of picking out my seeds, and my veggie starts.  I love the smell of the greenhouse and adventures of finding two gardening gloves that actually match in my shed.  I pull out all the stops on tools, shovels, claws, rakes, and the hose.  My lawn greens up and I feed it and mow it.  It looks like velvet now that I actually have a mower that all the wheels are the same height.  I buy 4 new perennials every year, something strange that will come back every year and get bigger and then I split it up and make it grow somewhere else.  In inspect my trees and look at their bark and make sure they are healthy and strong... going to need some apples this year.  I uncover my birdhouses covered from the winter and know that the bees will live there yet again. I love planning out my garden - it's not my dad's big old garden - but I have sprinkled a baggie of his dirt in it once just for his magic.  I hate tomatoes - but I always plant them and watch them blossom, grow beautiful red and then I smash them.  My favorite moments are right before I bury any seed or plant any plant.  I pull up my chair right next to the garden and I just drink in it's vibes.  Crazy eh.  I visualize what this or that would do in which spot - or rotate spots from the year before to rest the soil.  Then I go into my kitchen and look out the window and think of what I want to look out and see all summer long.  Then I get to work lining up seeds the right distance apart and the right depth, rake over the soil, and wish them luck.  My little garden might not be very big but it yields growth like crazy.  I sing my songs to it, and I rid it of it's weeds, and I give it wonderful eggshells to help it grow.  When I step into it - the world disappears and it's just quiet to me.  The quail love to nest in the raspberries and their babies can be seen running along the little indents where the seeds will come up.  I love this gene in me, and the love my dad gave me for growing things.  I love that my kids love dirt under their fingernails also.  I love to plant... I'm excited to plant... I'm waiting to plant... I'm wanting to plant... but it's been raining for 3 solid weeks and all my seeds and plants are still tucked in a warm safe place until the sun shines enough to plant them.  Except for the tomatoes.... I left them out in the cold.  Leaves me more time to decide where to plant things I guess.  Can't mess with Mother Nature.

Hey Me Mudder...

Some people dread different things - events, or expectations - life happenings, certain days.  Today, it's the day I knew was coming and there was no stopping it.   On a day when people honor their Mothers and hug them and do special things for them... I am without, for the first time ever.  But I also know that most people that dread things, survive and look back on those times and say - it made me stronger.  I woke after about only an hour of sleep last night.  I watched the clock tick over to the 12:00 am red glare, May 10th, 2015.  "Here it is", I said.  I spent the rest of the night looking at pictures, playing videos over and over, and actually testing God's patience in asking to just hear her voice once more.  I talked out loud to her - silly but true.  I told her how sorry I was for letting her down so many times, and for not canning enough beans, and for taping up the hem of something instead of sewing it like she would have.  I told her that I actually didn't like her meatloaf, and when she made liver and onions I almost called child social services.  I thanked her for being the smile at the ball park, or the track, or the basketball or volleyball games.  I remembered her laughter and tears about life choices she had no choices in.  I spent a lot of time wishing her hand on my face, and to hear the words, "You just made my day" when it was actually her that had made mine.  I still didn't hear her voice, I still didn't dream of her.  I fretted over the cupcakes I needed to make and if they would be pretty enough or in the right paper, and I knew she had given me that silly thought. Our last words together were in prayer - I always had such a hard time leaving and driving the long ride home alone.  I would gather her hands in mind and kneel next to her wheelchair and we would pray together.  That is one thing I will always be thankful for - our prayers were precious, as they were expressions of love and concerns and brought peace and hope in our dark times.  Yesterday I wanted to see my daughters, the mothers of my grandchildren, the next generation of my mothers genes.  So. Much. Beauty.  When I'm with them, the crater in my heart from missing my mom is gently filling.  They buffer the pain, they tenderly expose the path ahead of hope and love.  Mom's day is a very special day.  Gratitude is such a small word for such a huge person.  Each memory of my mom is now a treasure, to reopen when needed and to hold dearly.  It's a gentle reminder that I need to be better at making a few treasures for my own kids, and grand kids.  But just for today, this long first time, this exhausting day of moments and thoughts and regrets and thankfulness... I might just be a little girl, her little girl.  Tomorrow - I'll be a Mom again.

this... is going to be wonderful

I think that the most precious thing a daughter of God can do is bring forth beautiful babies and teach them to be wonderful human beings.  I rejoice every time I hear... 'we're going to have a baby'.  I love my daughters and daughter in law for making this dream come true for me.  My daughter asked me if I had any pictures of her when I was pregnant with her.   Well... I seriously didn't look this fantastic, and actually I only have a few pictures of me being preggo mammoth mountain - which I resembled to a capital 'T'.  But I always wrote the stories of when I had them - or found out I was going to have them... or afterwards how much I fell in love with them even before they came.  We celebrate each new life in our family - we recognize Gods plan for a Man and a Woman to marry in the Temple, a place where families can be sealed together, and their children become children Born in the Covenant.  I can't wait to hold this new little man coming so quickly.  I am anxious to see all of the things his big brother will teach him about pirates and leggos and magical places.  I cheer mommas tummies all over the world and pray that they arrive safely in their parents arms to become the next generation of Heavenly Fathers plan.  I celebrate my 5.5 grandchildren and hope that they know they are precious in every way to me.  Just like their parents were many times over.  Happy Tummy Day.  Oh... you want to know more?  I don't mind sharing...  LDS.org   Life is precious - don't waste a moment.

.....my heart will never be the same.

48 hours after returning from the hospital from my surgery, at which the doctor said, "Go home and DO NOT MOVE...."  my beautiful mother June Murray Hill Bowen passed away to be with my daddy on Valentines Day.  I woke up that morning and it was the day all of the tubes had to come out of my shoulder.  It was so painful and by the time I was able to get cleaned up and helped back into bed I felt I should call and talk to my mom.  The aid said that her breathing pattern had changed and she was probably going to pass in 24 hours.  I frantically gathered my things - so totally drugged up - not knowing how to get to Logan.., but within a hour the call came that she had passed.  I had missed it.  I let her down.  I wasn't there.  I had failed her.  She had slipped away on her own to join her glorious family on the other side.  I was alone when the call came, I cried a cry that I've never heard before come from my soul.  All that I had inside me was shattered in a million pieces.  She was the light of my soul.  There will be times I want to write about her - and the moments since then.  The privacy of my grief consumes me and I have hidden in the darkest corners of my soul.  I cannot breathe some days.  Other days I find myself thinking about what she would have done in situations and I find a moment of a smile.  I know she is happy - I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is whole and beautiful and complete.  I know now that she knows all the things the Lord promised her before she came to this earth that he would help her with - he did.  Her soul, her life, changed the world for many people.  Preparing for her funeral, with the situation at hand with my surgery was more than I could bear.  Preparing words to speak about her - joyful and painful.  She lifted your spirit with just a flash of those blue eyes - and there will never be now or ever anyone like her.   How proud I am of her life, and her love, and her devotion to her family, her faith, and to my dad.  Tributes to her were precious and poinient.  My times with her were tender and precious.  We LIVED when we were together - we LAUGHED, we SERVED, we completed sentences the same.  She is my precious mother forever.  My children were BLESSED by her every being.  THEY GET IT - they will pass it on - for this... I can begin to begin again - because in their eyes - I see her.  There have been experiences that I would like to write about - but until now I just couldn't start to write again until I posted a few things.  Maybe she'll free my heart to tell those stories now.  I love you forever and a day.  I hold your heart, I hold your heart in mine.  I love you.