Where has the time gone?

Sunday, December 23, 2007

What a tough month!

I really can't think of any other way to describe this month. So much has happened and I really don't know where to begin. I guess I could be writing daily. I'm sure that would have helped me catch up with stuff.

Like I said in my last entry, my Grandpa Jack passed away. He was my paternal grandfather. It was the Tuesday after Thanksgiving. The day of the funeral, which I was sadly unable to attend, my Dad, Mom, sister Elena and her family, and sister Hanna and her family gathered in Rupert, Idaho for the funeral. They arrived late, having been stopped by a train. When they arrived at the chapel, there was an ambulance out front. It turned out my uncle Jackie, my dad's youngest brother had an aneurysm and had to be air lifted to a hospital in Boise, Idaho. He ended up having several strokes, two surgeries and his son Jack, III finally pulled him off life support on December 11, 2007. He died two weeks after his father.

The day after Grandpa passed away, November 28, my sister, Laura the fourth of six girls gave birth to her fourth child, Kate. Everything went pretty much as planned until after the delivery. She developed a staff infection and was in the hospital for almost a week. They had to pump iv fluids and antibotics directly into her heart. Thankfully is she now doing well and just trying to figure out how to take care of four children now. She says four is definitely more than three.

I think the hardest thing this month was that I couldn't be there for any of it. Living in Florida does have its draw backs. Especially when you are over a thousand miles away from any other family members. I couldn't hug my dad, I couldn't help Laura with her children, I couldn't tell Jack III that everything would be okay. I had to wait by the phone hoping that someone would call me. I had to wait to see if anyone remembered to fill me in. The one thing that I was able to do turned out for the best.

Something happened the day of Grandpa's funeral that never really happens. My mom called me within a few hours of Jackie being airlifted. I usually hear about these things months after they happened. But for once, she called me that day. As soon as she called, I instantly thought to call my mother-in-laws sister, Cheryl. Cheryl and her family and her brother Ron and his family live in Boise. When I called she was home and was able to get Ron to go see Uncle Jackie at the hospital. He was going to try to give Jackie a blessing, but was unable to get into see him because of the severity of Jackie's codition. He ended up taking Jack III to dinner, finding out what his immediate needs were and helping make sure that he was taken care of. After Jackie's death, he paid the legal fees to get Jackie's estate taken care of. Ron has completely bent over backwards to help my cousin. I am in awe of his humility and his charity for my cousin. I've only met this man once and he has gone above and beyond anything that I though he would do. I was anxious about having him give Jackie a bless, instead he helped in a way that I never could. I will be eternally in his debt. I told my husband that I would love to be a fly on the wall at Ron's funeral. I know that Jack III can't be the only one he's helped like this.

I spent a lot of this month feeling sorry for all the things that I couldn't do, but it really helped to open a path to a talent I had forgotten about. I've started writing again. Sometimes getting lost in thought can be troubling enough to make your want to poor your heart out on to paper. I started by writing some fanfictions for Who's the Boss? this old tv show I used to watch. I started to write them just to exercise some writing muscles I hadn't used in a while. It turns out I've been pretty well received by a few people who've been reading them. By Thursday, I had written four chapters of a story. If you get bored enough, you can read any of my work at

In one of my past blogs, I wrote about how I've started singing again. Well today was an experience. I sang in Sacrament. I've never, as far as I can remember, never done that before. I've sang in programs and for different events but never a solo in Sacrament. I sang "When Mary Sang Her Lullaby" by Sally de Ford. I was nervous, but I said a little prayer before hand and knew that the Lord would help me. I got up to sing and I thought that I did okay. Midway through the song, I noticed that the stake choir director was watching me. I thought I've really opened up a can of worms now. Little did I know. I got a lot of compliments after church. I was actually very flattered. But before Sacrament itself was over, Bishop announced that next Sunday we would all be meeting at the Stake Center for church at 10am. He said that our ward boundaries would be changing and that we were all to meet for a very special sacrament meeting. There would be four wards meeting together that day. I'm thinking to myself, that could easily be over 700 people. Well, about 7PM I get a call from this same Stake Choir director. It turns out that they've asked her to get some musical numbers together for this special sacrament meeting and she wanted to see if I would sing my same solo again. My jaw just about fell to the floor. It was nerve racking enough to sing in front of my own ward. It's another to sing in front of mine and 3 others. I know the Lord will help steady me, but at the moment my faith is a little short. I know it will be okay. I just need to relax and not think about it. Just like my accompanist, Lisa Truett said you need to not worry about you sound like or what people will think of you. You just need to think about how you can sing so that everyone there will understand the meaning of the song and so that they'll feel the Spirt. The Spirit is all that matters.

Talk about a month. I can't believe I've done all this. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I have no idea where this month has gone or where this year has gone.

In case I don't write tomorrow or Wednesday. Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year!

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Idaho born, Texas native Floridian