UP, UP and AWAY

So this is my 3rd post in a row about Mason...but its that time of year...that he weighs on our heart strings.

Since moving to the BeeHive state...no one here knows our Mason story...one day while jogging with a friend, Jennifer, she asked what we do special on Mason's day of passing.

I thought of years past, when my whole extended family met in Quitman for Labor Day weekend and remembered his last day on earth. We would all gather at the grave, sing I am a Child of God, and let balloons off. The little cousins all loved it. We told them how the balloons rising in the air represent how Mason's spirit too rose that day too to return to our Father in Heaven. And how even though we can't see the balloons anymore...they are still there. Same for Mason, we can't see him anymore...but HE is stilll HERE.

I told her truthfully how I don't love going to his grave. It brings me great sadness. His gravestone is weathering, I always get sticker burs in my feet, sometimes ant bites...but overall just a raw feeling of despair. I try not to remember the haunting images...but I can't help it when I stand over his grave. I know it is sacred ground...my father dedicated it to be so....but I don't feel HIM there.

So this year was different...no grave to go to...no extended family to gather round. I really racked my tiny brain on what we could do this year. It was a Tuesday. Matt came home early from work...we packed a picnic (ok truth be told...we bought a picnic)...picked up balloons and headed to the mountains by our house. We drove as high as we could (I was car sick by this point with all the switch backs). We hiked to the tippy tippy top of the tallest mountain we could find.

The view was incredible. 360 degrees of mother nature. We could see past the valley at the expanse of the Great Salt Lake...we could see the rugged terrain below...we could see the Bountiful temple off to the south.

We ate our food while taking in the view. The girls ran and picked wild flowers. Then we sang our song and let our balloons fly. They soared higher than they ever have before. It felt if we were closer to heaven too. We had 9 blue balloons tied together to represent each year of his passing. Then we each let off an individual balloon. Avery even surprised us by not cyring when she let hers soar. She even tried to take mine from me and release it.

After we couldn't see the blue and red specs...Ri-Ri who is always thinking...said "What is Mason going to do with all those balloons."

My heart swelled at the thought of poor Mason in heaven with the hundreds of balloons he has received over the past 9 years. He also got some from his Texas cousins that day. They even wrote a special note.

This dear friend, who was thoughtful enough to ask about Mason and our traditions also delivered an awesome gift. She brought over the most fabulous birthday cake stand, candle holders and cute table runner. She wanted to bring cheer to our dark day. And I know it is a celebration too of sorts for him. The day he returned to Heaven.

My friend Jen, knows all too well the pain of an early good-bye.

But we also can't forget another reason to pause, reflect and celebrate on that day...the birth of my sweet sister who "Smells good". That nickname was given to her by the our youngest sister, Lauren. She came up with some real zingers...like "Missy, you look good from here up" (pointing at my neck).

Happy Birthday sis, we ate the most delish cupcakes in your honor.

And here's a flash back pic for you...of you and MTV on another birthday celebratioin. I enjoyed looking back at old pics and seeing how much time you would spend coming to Kingwood to visit and hang out with MTV. Thats why she loves you so much. Wish you could do that now.

The DAY

Who: Mom and Mason
What: Not sleeping
When: Wee hours of Friday September 1, 2000
Where : Texas Children's Hospital
Why: Mason was sick

Thursday night and wee hours of Friday morning.
Me: Paging nurses several times that night. "Something is not right. He is in pain. He is struggling."
Nurses: Checks his heart. "He seems okay...maybe his tummy hurts and he needs a BM."
Me: " He has a fatal heart condition...he is NOT OK. He keeps throwing his head side to side and crying."
Nurses: "We will check on him later"

7am Friday morning.
New set of nursing staff comes on.
New Nurse comes to check on him
New Nurse: "Mrs. we need you to leave the room. Your baby is in heart failure. We need some space"
Me: rush to get out of jammies and call hubby. "GET HERE QUICK MASON IS FAILING!!!!"
Hubby: Racing to drop MTV off at a friends and get here ASAP.
Me: Call my Dad who is driving to a meeting. He is on the road somewhere between Houston and Dallas. "Dad, they have kicked me out of the room. It is full with doctors and nurses rushing around. They said he is in heart failure....but don't worry they are ready for him this time. They have the shock paddles in position if they need it."

Mason is transfered to the PICU for on the clock observation.
Me: Surprised to see my Dad walk in the hospital doors just 2 hours after I called. I know it was the Spirit whispering to him that I needed him there.
Hubby: Getting sick with fever and flu like symptoms has to leave the hospital for fear of spreading it to Mason.

Sometime that afternoon...Mason is still failing. His heart is way enlarged...His organs are swelling.
Me: Go to the milk bank to pump. Overly engorged from a baby who hadn't eaten in days. Return from the milk bank to find my Dad outside the PICU with tears in his eyes.
Dad: With shaky quivering voice "Mason has coded...they asked me to leave...they are working on him now...his heart surgeon is in there too.
Me: Thinking don't give up now...you are a fighter....you have survived worse. Fight Mason Fight!
Dad: Calls Mom who is picking up my 2 sisters...one in Tyler and one in Dallas. You see it was my sisters 25th birthday that day and we were all gathering in Houston since I couldn't leave with a sick baby. "Hurry he is not doing well"
Mom: driving like crazy that 4 hours it took to get there.


Minutes later
Surgeon: We have him stabilized for now...but he will code again. He is too weak for surgery to see what is going on. We will have to do an ultrasound and see if we can see anything.
Me: trying to call hubby and tell him what has happened. Can't reach him. He is sick in bed.
Me: Calling neighbors and ward members to find someone who can go beat on the door and WAKE him up. He needs to be here.
Hubby: Finally awakes...loads up on meds...says a prayer and heads to the hospital (1 hour away)

Later. After several tests determine Mason's holes in heart has closed up and needs a heart cath to see if they can insert a blade and cut the hole back open. This would relieve the pressure on his expanding heart.
Me: Signing all the documents. Signing all the risks..."even death". But what choice did we have.
Dad: Still by my side...giving me all the support I needed.
Hubby: Finally arrives.
Mom, and sisters: finally arrive as they are prepping him for the procedure.
Brother Mike arrives too to be by our side.

Our family gathers to give Mason a priesthood blessing before he enters the operating room.
Me and hubby: walk as far as we can with Mason before watching him enter the room.
Our family escorted to a private waiting room outside the operating room
Tears and fears. Fears and tears.

An hours passes and we are waiting with our pager to be notified how the surgery is going.
5 more minutes pass...5 more minutes pass. Still no call.
We see head cardiologists sprinting by us into the operating room.
Me: My heart sinks...this can't be good. "Please don't let him die...he is going to survive this"

Minutes which seem like hours later
Cardiologist : "Masons heart stopped the moment we got the blade next to his heart wall. We have been trying to revive him for the last 30 minutes. We have a very faint beat and we will continue to try until there is nothing left"
Me: lay me head back "NOT NOW...GOD not now...keep trying"

Minutes later
2 Cadiologists walk out with sweat soaked scrubs: "He is GONE...he is gone."
Me: shock, disbelief, utter despair.
Me: embraced in the arms of those who love me most...My hubby...my parents...my sisters.

Quiet Reverence we walk back to his hospital room where they will let us be alone with him.
Again my family gathers as hubby admonishes his last blessing upon our sons head.
The spirit may have been gone from that frail body...but it surrounded us in that blessing.

Hubby and I were able to hold him for a long while and tell him every last thing we wanted.
I wiped his cheeks...wiped his nose and held his hand one last time.

We left..leaving him in the care of my mother. She stayed until the end...until the nurses were done with everything they needed. Until the funeral home came to pick up Mason.

I don't remember a word being uttered as hubby and I made that long drive home in the rain.
We arrived home and drove several times around the block...waiting for my brother to arrive with our only child left. We needed her there...we couldn't enter our house with empty arms.

We carried her in and laid her in our bed. We surrounded her and slept all night cradled with her in between. We needed her healing power. We needed to know that she still needed us as parents.

The sun rose the next morning as it always does. The Lord put earthly angels along my path that day. We awoke to a house fill with food for church members, the sound of a neighbor mowing our lawn, our bishop coming the first thing in the morning to minister to us, the neighbors who delieverd flowers and goodies for MTV.

We dressed and went to the newly opened Houston Texas Temple. We needed to feel God's love and try to understand His plan. We needed to go to where we could be reminded of our eternal sealing power for our family. Where we could feel the truth that Families are Forever no matter how early a loved one departs.

The events of that dreadful day will never leave my mind...but I know the Lord sent tender mercies that day too. To have a husband worthy to lay heads on my son's head at a moments notice. A father who listened to the Spirit and returned back to Houston to be by my side. A mother and sisters who already had travel plans to come to Houston to be by my side. A brother who could be there too and his wife to take care of our daughter.

Mason, this was the events of the day that lead you back to our Father in Heaven. Where we know that we will someday be reunited. And what a glorious day that will be.
Until we meet again.

Dedication

We had the privilege of not having regular schedule church meetings today. My younger kids were celebrating a day off from church. What is wrong with that picture. But instead members of the church in the Salt Lake area were able to participate in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple dedication.
Hubby and I were able to bring our oldest with us. Only those 8 and up are able to attend.
I was feeling especially proud to have MTV with us. I thought how special it was to spend time with just her.

And this always present nag was there too...there should be someone else enjoying the dedication with us too. He would be 9 and thus old enough to attend. So again I felt that "empty aching arms" feeling.

But as I was feeling sorry for myself...my thoughts turned to another temple dedication I attended. Almost exactly 9 years ago (August 26,2000) I was sitting outside the celestial room in the Houston Texas temple.

(Houston Texas Temple)

Oh how I grew to love that temple. It was a place of special memories, a place of priceless teaching and a place of refuge from the storm.
The temple open house was the last major family outing we had with our Mason. We took random pictures that day..but who knew they would turn out to be the last. But they were also the best pictures we had ever captured of Mason. He was so happy...so smiley...so full of life.
Weeks after the open house, hubby and I sat quietly, reverently waiting for the dedication to begin. My heart was full, my thoughts were on my little son at home who was getting sicker. We heard some people coming and our little group quickly rose to our feet, as our dear prophet at the time, President Hinckely, entered the room. He stood and in his usual peppy optimistic demeanor, he stopped and greeted us. I wanted to reach out and grabbed his hand and beg him to go bless our baby. OR maybe more likely I wanted him to go command a healing blessing upon our son. I could not hold back the tears and emotion at that thought. If only a prophet of the Lord could touch and bless Mason then he could be made whole.

As I resisted the urge to lunge at our sweet prophet...a thought, an impression, a revelation was given to me. I turned to look at my husband and in that moment I knew that the same priesthood power that President Hinckley had to bless the sick was the same priesthood power that Mason's Dad beheld. And that there was no one on this earth who would have wanted to save his child more. I watched countless times over the past 8 months as hubby laid his hands on my head to bless this baby while I was still carrying him and then many times over he blessed Mason with strength, comfort, peace and healing.

The temple is truly a place of learning, a place of teaching. And I was taught that day to trust in my husbands priesthood power. I am so blessed to have that priesthood power right in my home to be used at a moments notice. I learned to never take that for granted.

And finally the temple became a house of refuge to us in our deepest moment of grief. After having exercised all the faith, hope and prayers that we could muster, Mason had a much greater calling and returned to the one who gave him life. Exactly a week to the day of the temple dedication...we were now standing in the holiest of places for a much different reason. A place to grieve, a place to ponder, a place to express gratitude, a place to feel His spirit around us. I can't remember how long we lingered in the celestial room trying to reconcile his birth, his life, and his death. Trying to imagine with our celestial eyes what our reunion would be like. Trying to find peace at the deepest sorrow of our life. Trying to find the promise amidst the pain. Trying to exercise faith in His eternal plan for Mason and for us. Trying to grasp the depths of what lay ahead and what huge responsibility we have as parents to make it back to our son.

Those are the thoughts I had as I waited for the new temple dedication to begin. I looked over at my eternal companion and my eldest daughter. These are the 2 people who were with me all the way through the incredible journey of my Gethsemane. These are the 2 who helped me heal, who wiped away the tears, and helped me laugh again. And now I was sharing another eternal bond with them inside the church building which was an extension of the temple that day.

It was then that I had a small glimpse of what our eternal family would be like. I am grateful for the outpouring of the Spirit that day to remind me of how blessed I am to have had a temple near me at the time I needed it most. And how blessed that I can go there and still feel connected to Mason as I think of the missionary work he is doing for our ancestors on the other side. And how Mason still needs me to finish the work he is doing by doing their baptisms and ordinances so they can receive the full blessings of the gospel of Christ.

Heavenly Father sends me tender mercies of thoughts like this often and when I need it the most.

SkOol DaZe

6:30 came bright and early this morning, as we dragged our summer lazy bodies out of bed. I was trying to keep my eyes propped open and put a little war paint on my dark circles before I woke Ra-Ra up. And before I could even wipe the sleep out of my eye...my little blonde hair beauty came bouncing into my bathroom fully dressed in her new little school uniform...ready to take on the day.

What my children lack in physical similarities to the one who bore them life...they make up in similarities to my personality. No, not one of morning optimism, that is not a blessing I was gifted with. But waking up excited to wear her new outfit. She was a doll...so preppy...so polished...so cute...and she KNEW it. She had a sheepish smile plastered on her face.

Daddy made her favorite breakfast...waffles with Chocolate Agave Syrup. She gobbled it up. On any normal day...this is a child who rouses around 9 o'oclock...eats breakfast hours later...and stays in jammies as long as she can get away with. So for her to be up dressed (darlingly I might add) and have eaten before the clock struck 7:00 was no small feat.

But again she had brand new clothes to model to make up for the lack of sleep.

After complaining about Utah schools for the last 2 years...I finally was able to get them into a charter school. Oh my lucky stars...things are looking up.

So this was a brand new school...so to help alleviate any fears...I presented her (and another cute family in the ward whose kids were also going to this charter for the 1st time) ...a Schultuete. Which is a tradition in Germany..where on the first day of school the parents present their kids with a obscenely LARGE and overly decorated cone. The cone is filled with all kinds of treats and goodies. The kids take them to school...have their picture taken holding them in front of their school sign or classroom sign..and then wait ALL day before finally getting to open them at home.

Great idea in theory. I presented them to Reagan and the other kids the night before and all agreed to take them to school. Mind you we don't live in Germany...we have NO German descent...but none the less we carried these gigantic things in to snap their picture.

OH the looks we got...the questions we were asked...the embarrassed and horrified look Reagan had as I shoved it in her arms to embrace and hold.

I got my Kodak moment and took it back.

But she was excited to get off the bus that day and tear into her long awaited Schultuete.

Happy 1st Day of Skool my prep school child.

Next week its Madisons turn.

A Tail of 2 Brothers

Ever since of beloved Ella met her maker a month ago...the question I have heard repeatedly is...

When are we going to get a new kitten???

The girls searced dilligently each day on KSL (local newspapers website)...Petfinder.com....Humane Society

Each time they found ones they "loved and had to have"...but I reminded them of the 2 week trip adventure to the "motherland" of Texas.

Still they searched.

Many times I heard "Mom, come quick I found the one I want". OR

"Mom, we have to go this kitten NOW or it will go to a shelter" OR

"Mom, this kitten is going to be put to sleep if we don't save her"

But patiently I waited. You see I didn't want your run of the mill alley cat...or calico...

I wanted our ELLA back. I wanted those bright blue eyes smiling at me each morning.

I wanted that long soft fur to pet.

I waited and waited...and did my own searching.

After we detoxed from Texas a few days...I was searching once again... and found the ONE. It was the ONE I had to have...ooopppss!!! I mean the ONE my kids had to have.

His name was Bouffant...he was 1/2 Persain.

I had a sweet persain once...it was my 1st wedding gift from my beloved. Her name was Chloe. I only had her 5 years before discovering that she was giving my only daughter at the time, severe Asthma. I did what every good Mom would do...I pretended it wasn't the cat..then gave into the deep dark truth and found my beloved Chloe a new home.

I called the flock of girlies over to the computer...they ooohhhed and aaahhhed at my choice.

Well except one.

I will let you guess which one had a small problem. The one who has to have ALL of her demands met or there will be fire to pay. The one who tugs at my heart strings and breaks them at the same time. The one who goes from 0 to witchy in 5 seconds flat. The one who runs my life.

I have always wanted another Persain...but Ri-Ri says "they are gugusting"...or in layman's terms...Disgusting.

She loved the brother of Bouffant...from the moment she laid her big beautiful eyes on him. I brushed off her adoration and called to set up an appointment to get MY beauty. So what if it was HER kitten I was trying to replace.

I knew how good my savvy selling skills were (see Dad I have put my marketing degree to work)...so we headed out the door. I was sure I could do the bait and switcheroo.

She wouldn't know the difference.

Oh was I wrong...she picked up Bouffant and quickly put him down...and said "Where is the kitten that was in basket in the picture." How did she know???

It was a fuzzy small picture on the computer.

She was in LOVE.

How could I deny her the kitten of her dreams...especially after her daddy squished her 1st one.

(Don't let the picture decieve you...it is a different kitten from Ella)

So I gave in...handed over the 50 bucks (I had just pulled out of Daddys account) and made her dreams come true.

She walked to the truck...beaming with her new prize...where her sisters were screaming with glee.

I was hanging my head down. I had lost my touch.

But I knew there was only 1 thing to do. I grabbed my purse and headed back into the house

and bargained a deal to buy the one of MY dreams.

Now I was the one beaming as I walked out the door.

The screams of happy girls could be heard miles around.

Daddy had already gotten home from work and was wondering where his herd of chicks were.

Ri-Ri bounced in the door carrying a large tote and shoved it at her Dad and said through her plastered on smile...."Mommy took us to the dumb mall and all I got was this."

All he did was calmly look at me and say "Really???? We needed 2."

And I replied "Yep...an Heir and a Spare"

No further comment needed.

The others helped Ri-Ri choose the name Bugsy...you will know why if you saw BedTime Stories. His buggy eyes say it all.

I took a few days to mull over my names. After ignoring all the girls suggestions of Zach and Cody or Jonas or some other popular boy toy...I took Nana's suggestion and went with Poofy.

She says her kids always teased her that she had poofy hair...and so does my Poofy.

Now Dad announces his arrival into the garage...we all dive to pick up our kittens to save them from the Big Freddie Flinstone Foot.

LONG LIVE THE BROTHERS...at least I hope.

FLASHBACK 20 Years

I know I haven't been posting much in the last 2 months...so I am trying to catch up day by day.

We packed up this gaggle of girls and headed home to TEXAS.

I try not to subject myself to extreme temperatures of heat or cold...but this year it could not be avoided.

100+ degrees and 100% humidity...here I come.

Many of my high school chums were converging on our hometown to see how far we have come in 20 years. (Gosh now you know how old I am.)

With no date (hubby was back in Utah doing that thing called work) I called the next best thing.. my baby baby sister. How appropriate I thought since she graced our family my senior year of high school.

Like the proud sister I was...I toted that baby to basketball games...to the store and more.

I can imagine the looks I got...as unknowing people passed with their eye brows raised high.

Lauren drove in from the best college around...UT need I say more.

She said, "are you sure you want a YOUNGER, PRETTIER version of you there?"

I quickly changed my mind and said HECK NO...please stay here and watch my offspring for the evening.

(Thanks younger prettier version of me)

So away I went like Cinderella to the ball with no man on my arm.

I did meet up with one of my bestest friends, Lisa before the gala.

We have laughed together since our young 4th grade days as baton twillers.

I can still do a mean windmill if you would like to see.

My friends amazed me how grown up they are.

Professionals, Spouses, and Parents.

(Spanx was in working well that night)

Some who could barely pen their name to the SAT test, were now in charge of major divisions of companies or entrepreneurs.

Well they did show entrepreneur skills even back then as the fenagaled their way out of detention or demerits or failing classes.

(These are people that lived on my street of Spring Grove. Tres was my bestest guy friend. He teased me unmercifully but I wouldn't have it any other way.)

My bigest surprise was to see how dazzling my gal pals all stayed. They paraded into the ballroom with swanky dresses on and bodies that still looked the same.

Tried as I may...not a pound was shed pre-reunion..all that jogging got me no where on the scale but depressed. Then I realized that my friends loved me no matter what I look like.

So I pinned 5 individual pics of each of my darling kids and headed out the door.

(This is one of my bestest friends through high school and beyond. We were the only ones to get accepted to the best university around. Hook Em' We still bleed orange.)

Award ceremony came and I tied for the most number of kiddos. Only outside of Utah would 5 win. My buddy Tres has 5 too...but I think he should be eliminated since he didn't carry one of the them for 10 months much less squeeze one out.

Also a friend named me the "Most Dressed" of the Night.

Gotta keep a girl humble.

4 layers was more than enough in the 100 degree weather.

But my shoes were to die for. (picture to come)

Thats all that matters.

We did have 10 of our fellow Bears pass since our high school days.

Surprisingly they were all guys.

Sad as we remembered them so full of life walking down our hallways.

So here's to the next 20 years.

Hey that's a country song if you are brave enough to admit it.

Our ELLA

Daughter #3 was so desperate to have a cat...that she was trying to catch the neighbors cats who wander through our yard on the way to the mountains. I caught hubby at a weak moment and he said YES. So I immediately went online and found this adorable baby who need adoption.
So we set out as a family to run errands one Saturday in May. We told the girls that if they were good...then we would get a treat on the way home.
We drove up to a strange house and I told everyone to wait in the car...i had to pick something up.
When I got back a few minutes later...I asked Ri-Ri to hold my big black purse. I set the purse on her lap...Ri-Ri looked down and cracked the sweetest biggest smile and yelled "KITTEN".
The other girls were not so calm...and full on screaming erupted from our car.
That little baby with the brightest blue eyes was passed from excited girl to excited girl. She never knew what hit her.
This sweetie never hit the ground for longer than a minute. She was held...loved and cuddle most of the day.
I would awaken to the garage door being open and shut many many times as one by one each girl would wake up and head straight to see Ella.



*********
Then tragically her life was cut short today. A freak accident left our beloved Ella motionless and lifeless. We heard the howl and then found her convulsing. Thankfully she died quickly but we had to witness her last fight at life. It left us all devastated. We had to wake one child who was still sleeping...to say her final goodbyes.
The girls found the most perfect box...a heart shaped box that Daughter #1 had used to collect her Valentines this year.

They each gathered one of Ella's favorite toys...a shoe lace...a sock...a twig...a ribbon that said BEST...and laid it gently with her.

They stroked her fur...they gave her gentle kisses.

They watched their daddy dig her grave and gently bury her. He found the most perfect spot...near their playground, where they can see her each day.

They covered the ground with rocks to protect her and picked beautiful flowers that are so abundantly growing all around.

We sang "I am a Child of God" because that is what we sing at Mason's grave. After wards I thought it was appropriate for Ella too...she is Gods creation just as we are.

I tried to console them and say everything possible...but Daughter #3 said it the best...."It's okay mommy, don't be sad, maybe Mason needed a kitten in Heaven."

I promised her that animals will be resurrected too and someday Ella will be back with her. I am sure she is pouncing in Heaven now.