Leaving the Shire and Other Adventures

I've been procrastinating writing this for days, which is interesting because I'm excited to share about this photo which was 3 years (or even 31 years) in the making!  But it's also hard, because it means I'm moving forward.  But it's time to end this chapter.  When I heard The Hobbit was going to be made into a movie I had a crazy idea- to WAIT until the final film was in theaters and then watch each movie, one night after another.  This was CRAZY because I am a BIG LOTR fan!  I saw each one at the midnight premiere!!  I've sat through 2 LOTR marathons, 1 of those was EXTENDED VERSIONS at my own Dad's 45th birthday party.  But I am ESPECIALLY a fan of The Hobbit.  I consider it "my book" for a couple reasons.  First, my Dad read the entire book while my mom was in labor with me.  Seriously!  Also, when I was older he read it aloud to me with incredible voices and energy.  And he described to me with a proud smile on his face, the Halloween costume he had as a 6th grader- Thorin Oakenshield, blue cloak and all.  The connection between us and this book even inspired the title of my published personal essay, "There And Back Again With Daddy."  So it makes sense that I would want to be able to enjoy those movies in the most ideal way, one right after the other.  

Beyond all these reasons though, I think I was waiting because I didn't want to start a journey I wouldn't be able to finish with my Dad.  We had traveled through the Shire many times and I didn't want to begin a journey when my father was still alive but have to finish it without him.

In fact, the night we finally watched the first film, one we waited 3 years to see, I was a horrible, cranky, mess.  I kept finding myself thinking "What would have Dad said at that moment?" or "Dad would have laughed at that part."  It was like all the holidays I had experienced the past year without him were easy because I had celebrated each one without him at some point already in my life.  And the really important moments, like Sophia's baptism, I knew he was with me then.  But this was the first time I was doing something simple, yet significant, that I felt he should be there for...and he wasn't.  I didn't blame him.  It was just hard.

Then I had that thought I've often leaned on for support "Daddy wouldn't want you to feel that way.  He would want you to be happy."  So I was able to take a deep breath, kind of relax, and start to enjoy the film.

The little details touched my heart as they reminded me of the sweet experiences of reading the book with my father.  Bilbo forgetting his handkerchief.  Longing for his Hobbit hole.  The songs of the dwarfs.  The presence of Beorn.  I could go on and on.  I had gone on that literary journey over 2 decades ago, and yet it was all fresh in the front of my mind and heart.

After 2 fun nights watching the first couple films at home, we headed to the movie theater for the final film.  I'll admit I was holding back some tears as I walked up that ramp into the theater.  This was it, it was finally happening.  The last movie was here and my Dad wasn't...  It was now my journey to take.  It was time for my own adventure.  I had my sweet husband there to travel it with me.  It was time.

In all honesty, of course the book was better than the movies!  But the films were still fun and I'm glad they were made.  It was quite the visual experience! But the best part might have been the end.  The song playing during the credits was called "The Last Goodbye."  It was the end of an era of amazing cinematic adventures, and they definitely recognized that.  But it was also an end to a chapter in my own life.  Not that chapter where my Dad had died.  That was over.  I had been living with that for a year.  The end of the chapter of mourning and hanging on.

I had needed that time.  It was an important process of growth and self-discovery.  But now it was time to turn a new page.  It was time to move forward.  Here are those lyrics...

I saw the light fade from the sky
On the wind I heard a sigh
As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers
I will say this last goodbye

Night is now falling
So ends this day
The road is now calling
And I must away
Over hill and under tree
Through lands where never light has shone
By silver streams that run down to the Sea

Under cloud, beneath the stars
Over snow one winter’s morn
I turn at last to paths that lead home
And though where the road then takes me
I cannot tell
We came all this way
But now comes the day
To bid you farewell
Many places I have been
Many sorrows I have seen
But I don’t regret
Nor will I forget
All [who took the road with me]

Night is now falling
So ends this day
The road is now calling
And I must away
Over hill and under tree
Through lands where never light has shone
By silver streams that run down to the Sea

To these memories I will hold
With your blessing I will go
To turn at last to paths that lead home
And though where the road then takes me
I cannot tell
We came all this way
But now comes the day
To bid you farewell

I bid you all a very fond farewell.

Growing up it was ALWAYS tradition for our family to sit in the movie theater until the credits were done (way before producers started putting fun, silly clips at the end.)  We sat through them mostly so Daddy could see where the movie was filmed.  For some reason he really liked knowing that, and there was no imdb.com back then.  In honor of tradition, I had planned on staying until the end of the credits.  Chad even expected it.  But after that beautiful song, things changed.  I realized I already knew where this movie was filmed and that really, I didn't need to stay.  I'm my own person, and I can do things my own way.  It might seem like something small, but it really was a huge step to go to that movie, enjoy it (almost tear-free,) and then walk out of that theater with my husband before the credits were finished rolling.

I thought I had done it.  I was finally moving forward!  But in reality I was still a tad stuck, because I wasn't ready to write about it.  In other words, I wasn't ready to reflect, process, be completely done and move on.  Because then I would be moving on without him and I would have to figure out this next chapter in my life without him too.  And what would that be?  What would I do next?  For so long I've been dealing with his being sick, his demise, then his death.  That was a big part of my life, and perhaps even a crutch to keep me from moving forward on other things I've wanted to do in my life.  I was finally comfortable in this place of coping and enduring.  But now it was time for more than that.  It was time to go on a new adventure and leave my comfortable, figurative hobbit-hole.  It was time to embrace that fact that I didn't have a handkerchief.  My Dad always had one in his pocket for me to borrow, but that was no longer a possibility.  It was time to face dragons and find gold.

I'm closing that book and leaving those great memories of Daddy to start a new adventure.   In this new book I don't see him.  I feel him sometimes.  He communicates to me at times.  But for the most part, he is writing his own story somewhere else and I am writing my own here.  And I am going to "wear a sword instead of a walking stick!"

I started this post saying that picture took 3 years to happen because that's how long we waited until all of the Hobbit movies were out for us to see consecutively.  But it took 31 years of experiences, love, and faith to finally HAPPILY see them and then move forward.   And I did it.  And I am moving forward, through leaps and bounds because J.R.R. Tolkein was right, "The road goes ever on and on."  I am entering worlds I didn't fully see before.  It will still be a journey, but it is worth every day's efforts.

My new adventures include really living in the moment and enjoying the good times with my family.  My new adventures include laughing with my husband more, and at myself more too.  My new adventures include having greater faith and letting go and jumping out of my comfort zone- I will break the dishes and crack the plates!  My new adventures will be a myriad of house projects as we try to finish our renovations.  And I am eager and excited!  But don't be surprised if you see my front door painted green.

Love,
Eva

P.S. “There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.” 
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

The Day The Music Died

Today it's been one year since I held my Daddy's hand and watched him take his last breath. It was in his pale yellow bedroom overlooking the city he grew up in, in the hills of San Diego.  And in all that time I haven't written about the tender mercies I experienced that morning, or what I did with the rest of that sacred day.  Well, now it's time.

We had been there for nearly a week.  Daddy had slipped into a coma and we knew his time was fading.  In all that time we hadn't seen a single hummingbird. Feeders surrounded his balcony because he liked to watch them from his bed.  As I tended to my mother and spoke to him (because the nurses told us he could still hear us) I watched for those lively, happy hummingbirds.  

But none came.  

Not until the moment that his body grew cold and his hands held stiff.  I held my mother.  I let the tears stream down my face.  We made sure he really was gone and nodded to each other that he was in a better place now.  And then I saw it.  Flying like a graceful dancer with beauty and life, zipping here and there outside the window, a hummingbird.  Where we had seen none for days, there were now many.

Throughout the rest of the day I continued to see them outside through the windows, on the balcony and at the park.  I was so grateful, grateful for these little reminders that my Father was happy.  He was soaring.  His spirit still had life.  He was no longer here, but alive somewhere else in the skies, in the heavens.  That is what those little birds meant to me on that day.  They were a comfort when my heart was cold.  They warmed me, as little flying creatures continue to do so, as they seem to find me each time I start to feel weary.  Sometimes they are dragonflies hovering around me children on a hike.  Or a butterfly that follows me and tries to land on my arm.  

I am so thankful for that continuing gift.

That morning I let the children say goodbye if they wanted to have one last moment with him here on earth.  My oldest two did, and then it was time for us to leave while the body was taken away.  I wasn't sure at first what to do in a foreign town, in the heavy mood I was in.  I decided what we all needed was some fresh San Diego air and a sentimental distraction.  So we headed to the local park, one that was next door to a school my Dad attended in his youth.  The same park he had played in as a child.

I was barely able to find a parking spot, it was so crowded!  But I pulled in just as another car was leaving.  And when I got out of the car I couldn't help but smile.  The plant beside me was a Bird of Paradise.  There were several of them, bright and beautiful.  These were the same plants that my Dad had joked about on SEVERAL occasions- try EVERY time we walked by one.  The joke went like this: "Look out!"(cheezy pointing gesture) or "Be quiet!" (then whispering) "It's a bird of paradise!"  That joke never got old, every year that we visited San Diego and every time I heard him say it, it made me smile.

What made me smile even more on that day was hearing my kids say it.  Once I told them what "Little Grandpa" used to say about those plants they were sold, making that joke every chance they could as we walked by their beauty.  Especially my Michael, who is a budding comedian after his own Grandpa's "Dad-joke" style.

I found it both ironic and precious that the park we chose to visit was a having a HUGE birthday party!  But in moments like these remembering that life goes on is more than important, it's healing.  And that's what I kept thinking to myself as I watched my kids play. My daughter made friends with a little girl immediately and went running off to play soccer in the field, leaving me to watch the two boys...one named after my Dad and the other with a middle name that was chosen by him.

I saw them and the sense of adventure and play they had running through their blood and I remembered how beautiful this life is.  And that's something to treasure each day, no matter how hard that day might be.  Especially on hard days.  Even if you just lost someone.  Because they aren't really gone.  Part of them lingers...

I saw my Dad in my own little Michael, as he did all sorts of silly "tricks" on the swing and wanted me to watch each one. "Look Mom!  No hands!"

I felt alive when I saw his toothy smile!  He is a dreamer and adventurer like his Grandpa!

He even stuck out his tongue like Daddy used to when he was concentrating!

I loved how he continued to show off for the camera... I loved the clouds, the green, all the beauty and life I could take in...

And then I watched my Sammy.  Always busy. Ever moving.  Always reaching higher.

His feet are so little, but still capable in their own way.  Getting up the ladders and through the hoops.

It gave me hope that little by little, step by step, I would be able to get through this too.

So many smiles and leaps and life!  I had to smile as I thought about my future surrounded by little people like these.

They are excited over the littlest things and keep going.  They aren't phased by anything for too long.  And for their sake, I need to be that way too.  I remembered that no matter my sadness I need to keep going, and I CAN be excited.  That is what my Daddy would want.  My Dad is SUPER.  He's raised me to be super too.  And I want to be, as a person, mother and wife because I CAN be.

Driving home from the park, just like on the way there, every song felt like it was from my Dad.  The song lyrics were uplifting, hopeful and comforting.  And really, those words are immense understatements.  But there are no words for moments that fill your heart with the comfort you are desperately seeking.  When love pierces you in a way only heavenly help can achieve you feel immensely blessed.  Those car rides with sweet songs strengthened me and allowed me to tell my kids truthfully that I was crying "happy tears." 

When we got home my Daddy was gone.  But then again, he wasn't.  The sky looked like it was on fire.  It was amazing.  And I couldn't help but think "He's painting the sky for me."

What a humbling blessing it was to have these experiences that day.  I felt cradled and carried.  I felt my Dad so close, so near.  I am very thankful for this special day in my life.  I do still remember it like it was yesterday.  And I don't mind.  If it was painful, it was equally inspiring and strengthening.  I know without a doubt that life goes on.  The spirit continues to exist.  And I know my Dad is literally smiling over me.  And I am smiling too.  I am so very, very lucky.  Love, Eva

I Hope You Dance...Sammy

Today was all about teaching and I'm thankful for that.  I'm so glad I get to see my kids grow. It's not always easy.  It's quick!  All I had was my cell phone to snap these moments today! But I HAD to...

Sammy hasn't come to dance with me for months, but we decided to try it again today and he joined in for about half of class.  Just seeing him smiling and twirling that ribbon was worth it!

It was worth being there for him during the times he didn't want to dance to be able to see him when he did want to dance. Sometimes waiting is the price for enjoying a victory.

Sophia was glowing in class today too. She shared her lift-the-flap art and was so happy. I have to enjoy these moments because they don't last forever.

And not because they are growing up, though that is happening way too fast too.  It's because by dinner time they are exhausted and tired and we are all ready for it to be bedtime. ;)

Seriously though, days like this are all a parent wishes for their child.  We long to see them being BRAVE, trying something NEW...GLOWING.  And I got to see that, today.

I hope they keep going, keep trying...keep dancing.  And I will be there for them every step of the way.

Love,
Eva

Moving On...Within

It's a little belated to be sharing this, but I wanted to make sure it was here since I've spent a lot of time writing here about my Dad.  Here was my TBT and Facebook status on Christmas...and some closure...well, at least as much as is humanly possible when your heart is still open...

TBT My first Christmas ever... Today was my first Christmas without getting to kiss my Daddy on the cheek. I still miss him, but there were no tears today. Just a happy Christmas as I felt him near me, like that first Christmas many years ago. Families are forever. More than ever before I am thankful for the birth of a perfect baby boy that would make eternal families possible. Thank you Heavenly Father for sharing your Son and thank you Jesus Christ for sharing your gift of love with the world. And thank you Daddy for sharing that gift with me. This was the first scripture he ever memorized and he quoted it often to me. I quote it tonight:"For God so loved, the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. " John 3:16 

This was my status a few days later...

Love goes on. People might have to leave us for a while. Others are still with us and need our love even more. This was the first Christmas I had a "widow" to look after. She may be my mom, but regardless of that I hope to treat her with the same care and concern President Monson had as he looked after the widows in his ward when he was a Bishop. They need us. And we need them, because they have so much strength, wisdom and love to share too. I am so grateful my kids and I have my mother.

And finally, no picture, but today's status...

Sometimes at the end of the year I can start feeling discouraged- there are bound to be quite a few things on my to-do list that didn't get done! And even though another brand new year is starting, that thought doesn't help me too much.  What does help me is thinking of my Heavenly Father's To-Do list for me and realizing I haven't made much progress on MY own list because I've been working so hard on HIS- and that IS the first thing on my list, even if I didn't move very far beyond it. I may not have been performing at firesides, but I was home for my kids at night and available when they had a bad dream or wanted to cuddle. I may not have gone on any really fancy vacations, but I paid my tithes and offerings and was able to help some people in need- and we had a great family vacation to visit more family! I only made it through 1 novel, but I did read my scriptures regularly and 100's of kids' books in the mornings, afternoons and bedtimes. I may not have recorded 1 song, but I did record countless moments with my kids, encouraging them and helping them know they are important. I may not have a blog with hundreds of readers, but I am doing my best to be a good friend to those I know and an influence for good in my own circles and online where I can. I didn't run a half marathon, but I ran a 5k with both my mother and daughter, and then another with my sons in tow too. I may not be teaching thousands through a published self-help book yet, but I am teaching Sunday School, and Dance/Theater/Writing/Nature Studies to kids and hopefully inspiring them to embrace life! I AM THANKFUL my Heavenly Father trusts so many wonderful responsibilities to me. It's been a wonderful year, and I know the best is yet to come. 

This past year has definitely been a journey...of loss, of redemption, of hope.  Thanks for being a part of it!
Love,
Eva

More Than Special

This is my daughter, Sophia.  At first glance people don't know she's been diagnosed with ADHD, Oppositional-Defiant Disorder, and High-functioning Aspergers.  It's hard for me to even type those words because that's not what I see when I look at her either.  I see a vibrant, artistic, smart, caring, creative, sometimes crazy-loud & other times overwhelmingly shy, silly, thoughtful, beautiful, Christ-like child of God.  I know she's not perfect.  She's my daughter, so just like she's seen the worst of me, I've seen the worst of her.  But her "worse" is innocent, trying, frustrated, confused and yet still, her best in that moment of challenge.  And I'm so proud of her for trying everyday to fit in to this square world when she is a star.  

She did these art projects this week completely all on her own- no prompting from me...

Half of them she made because she loves art.  The other half she made because she loves me.  She wanted to cheer me up.  I can't think of anything more sweet or selfless for someone to do than take the time to create a piece of art out of their own creativity and with their own hands, just to help someone else feel happier.

Yes, she may not always be socially on target. She may not completely understand personal boundaries.  And we are still working on getting through the tired afternoon without a tantrum.  But she IS my sunshine.  She IS a joy.  She remembers stories I told her years ago with amazing detail, makes up songs while we drive to the grocery store and sees beauty in the simplest things.  

She fills me with wonder every day.  

It is a privilege to be the parent of a Special Needs child.  Some people who know me and Sophia may not think we fit in this category, but you don't know the things we struggle with behind closed doors.  Still, I would not be as strong or patient without her in my life.  She understands I get tired some days of the distractions that keep her from brushing her teeth even though I've been reminding her every minute for the past 10.  She knows I get frustrated and feel like an inadequate mom when I've put her to bed at 8:30 and she's still up 3 hours later.  And she may have ended up crying (loudly) at day camp this week because she couldn't make a Loch ness Monster out of beads as "perfect" as she wanted it to be.

But she also knows how to help.  She also understands that taking care of peoples' feelings is important.  When she prays she asks that our family can have help choosing the right and having the Holy Ghost in our home.  When she is her best self she cleans my room and decorates it for me with streamers, art and her favorite stuffed animals.  She holds me extra long when we hug and loves looking at the freckles scattered across my cheeks.  

And, I love looking at hers.  I love her.  I am so thankful she is in my life and I am lucky to call her mine.  Like anyone with a Special Needs child knows, "Special Needs" simultaneously is and isn't what they are.  Because they are so much MORE than a label or acronym.  

And yet, they are definitely, gloriously, special.   

Love, Eva 

Fleeting Summer Moments

My little Sophia had been asking me for a while to set up a pool in the backyard.  I said we would but, busy with so many other errands & tasks, I wasn't sure when.  She continued to ask & I continued to say I would get to it...eventually, when I had the time.  

Then one day, I saw this...

When I asked her what it was, she told me it was a pool.  She was done building it & she was about to fill it with water.  With a careful smile I tenderly explained that her design would mean a really muddy pool, that went up to her ankles.

But, realizing this was something that was really important to her & was going to happen SOME way or another, I went and got a kiddie pool.  Just look at her excitement...

As they played I couldn't help but notice this adorable, zippity, little bird.

I enjoyed watching him stomp over and snack on the bird seed I left on the fence for him

Then, in just a few moments of quick pecking, he was gone.

That is exactly how I view the time I have with my children.  So quick, energetic, vibrant & soon to be gone before I even realize it.  So I need to enjoy them.  I need to stop what I'm doing sometimes and just be "present."  That is the only real "need," precious time together TOGETHER.  

And, who wouldn't want to enjoy these sweet, fleeting summer moments?  Once I recognized the dishes could wait & the laundry wasn't going anywhere, I just sat back & enjoyed the view.  Then all I wanted to do was sit & stare & snap photos of these excited cuties!

And yes, I even enjoyed watching our dog chew on a stick to his complete delight!

That tongue! LOL

My birdie friend returned & then fled quickly away again...

So I was reminded again to focus on my playing children, because they are growing TOO fast.  Soon summer days like this one, with a spunky 8 year-old girl, silly 3 year-old son, and fun 6 year-old son will have disappeared...just like that little girl.

They really relish the moments they have together, as they learn new ways to play, laugh and explore this world.

And I want to too.  I want to just stop & really live & enjoy each precious day more.

The cute ones...

The silly ones...

The fleeting ones...

Because I know my little ones will be grown and gone before I know it.

And I don't want to miss a thing.  Love, Eva