Please Stay... 8 years

It's been 8 years now since Amanda left us physically. Eight years since I have heard her voice, seen her smile, watched her sleep, cuddled her on the couch, heard her say "I love you too", been wrapped tightly in one of her daily hugs, stared admiringly at her as she walked away confidently, received some random weird text video about wanting food, or enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

Even though it's been eight years since her death, she never leaves my mind and my heart still aches for her. Still... I consider us so blessed to have had her in our lives and trusted to be the ones to raise and love her for 16 and a half years. I like to look over at the passenger seat of my car where she would have been rushing to put on her make up before school. I imagine her so vividly that I can feel her warmth next to me and see her look over at me and smile. It took me almost three years before i didn't have a day when driving to work and my mind didn't drift back to memories of the day we lost her and the days that followed. I would replay every moment in slow motion, as tears gently burned their trace across my skin. Where I was when I got the call, who was in the room with me, the guilt over not answering my phone on the first time Lauren called me because my meeting at work seemed more important, having to make those heart wrenching calls to the rest of our family to tell them to "Come home. Please come home". Having my boss walk me to her car to drive me home and pleading gently with God the whole way there. The overwhelming love and support from friends, family, and even strangers. When I got to work, I would dry my eyes, take a deep breath, and move forward. I still have rare occasions when the memories come flooding back, but they don't drown my soul like they used to. I don't want to remember that day or the time that followed, but it's a part of my memory just as strong as the day I gave birth to her. I wonder what it would be like if she were still here. What job she would have, who her boyfriend would be, what fashion style she would be rocking, and whether I would have been wise enough to know I should cherish everything about her or would I just take for granted each moment I had been blessed to share with her. Sometimes I hear the shenanigans her friends get into and think "well... At least I don't have to go through that or worry about Amanda making poor choices" and then I'm filled with instant regret because I would be so happy to have just one more argument or one night of lecturing her for coming home late. At least, in the end, I would have her here with me. She might be mad or disappointed that she was in trouble, but she would be here. I don't like speaking in past tense, but that is what I am left with without her here. I don't want to tell how her story ended because the life she lived is so much more than that one moment in time. I've learned to say the word suicide without blinking, flinching, or crying in front of people. It's strange how people use suicide phrases in their daily vocabulary to express feelings or to joke around. I guess I never used to hear it before, I probably used to say use them myself more than I know, but now each word of those joking phrases jumps out and takes hold of my breath. Clutching my lungs tightly before slowly allowing me to breathe again. 

It's sad and tragic that we must assign a specific month, week, or even one day devoted to suicide awareness and prevention. Yet, suicide still seems to be something that is whispered instead of talked about. I am not ashamed that my daughter left the world the way she did. I do not begrudge her for not speaking out and asking for help through a difficult time, even though with every ounce of my being I wish she had. That's the thing... people who are suicidal don't think logically. They are experiencing an internal pain which takes over their thought process and presents only one possible solution. I wish I could have stopped her from feeling sad or alone in that moment of despair. I wish my love would have been strong enough to keep her here. I've had people say it's hard to understand how Amanda could have made such a "selfish" decision, taking away her pain and transferring it to her family and friends. In a moment of despair, you don't always stop to imagine how the world would be darkened without your light or have the ability to picture your life getting better. Whether you are 16 and experiencing a break up with the love of your life or 60 and tired of feeling numb and hollow, the depth of emotional desperation is immeasurable. You truly believe that no one will understand your pain or that no one can make you feel whole again. 

This is where I need to you to listen though. Those voices in your head are WRONG. You WILL make it through. You are NOT going to feel this way forever. This world WOULD be dark and sad without you in it. YES... even perfect strangers will ache at the loss of you. There are so many people who would do anything to help you. To listen to your story and sing a song of hope to your soul. You matter. If you are thinking that suicide is your only way out. It isn't. You say you don't want to burden anyone with your pain, but the pain you would leave them to deal with would me 100 x's worse. Trust me. Stop thinking about the rope, the gun, the pills, the knife, and any other exit strategy you've been planning. Reach out to someone. Anyone. None of us were meant to journey through this world alone. Please keep living. Please... Please stay. You are loved beyond measure. Live wisely and always choose the right.

What I Needed - 2/7/2013

Woke up in the middle of the night with work on my mind. Stayed awake until almost six and then fell asleep for another 45 min. That's hen you came to me Amanda. We were hugging each other so sweetly. You were resting your head on my chest. I said "I miss you so much" and you said "I miss you too. I miss you so very much mom." You wouldn't let go of me. You just kept your head on my chest and spoke softly saying, "I wish I had told you how much I appreciate you. You did so much for me and you are so good to my friends. You are always here for me even still." It was your voice. The voice I miss hearing throughout our home. It was your heart beating against mine and your soft hair against my chin. It was you. It was what I needed. Thank you my love. Thank you.

I love you billions and billions. Mama

Please Stay... 7 Years Without You

It's been 7 years now since Amanda left us physically. Seven years since I have heard her voice, seen her smile, watched her sleep, cuddled her on the couch, heard her say "I love you too", been wrapped tightly in one of her daily hugs, stared admiringly at her as she walked away confidently, received some random weird text video about wanting food, or enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

Even though it's been seven years since her death, she never leaves my mind and my heart still aches for her. Still... I consider us so blessed to have had her in our lives and trusted to be the ones to raise and love her for 16 and a half years. I like to look over at the passenger seat of my car where she would have been rushing to put on her make up before school. I imagine her so vividly that I can feel her warmth next to me and see her look over at me and smile. It took me almost three years before i didn't have a day when driving to work and my mind didn't drift back to memories of the day we lost her and the days that followed. I would replay every moment in slow motion, as tears gently burned their trace across my skin. Where I was when I got the call, who was in the room with me, the guilt over not answering my phone on the first time Lauren called me because my meeting at work seemed more important, having to make those heart wrenching calls to the rest of our family to tell them to "Come home. Please come home". Having my boss walk me to her car to drive me home and pleading gently with God the whole way there. The overwhelming love and support from friends, family, and even strangers. When I got to work, I would dry my eyes, take a deep breath, and move forward. I still have rare occasions when the memories come flooding back, but they don't drown my soul like they used to. I don't want to remember that day or the time that followed, but it's a part of my memory just as strong as the day I gave birth to her. I wonder what it would be like if she were still here. What job she would have, who her boyfriend would be, what fashion style she would be rocking, and whether I would have been wise enough to know I should cherish everything about her or would I just take for granted each moment I had been blessed to share with her. Sometimes I hear the shenanigans her friends get into and think "well... At least I don't have to go through that or worry about Amanda making poor choices" and then I'm filled with instant regret because I would be so happy to have just one more argument or one night of lecturing her for coming home late. At least, in the end, I would have her here with me. She might be mad or disappointed that she was in trouble, but she would be here. I don't like speaking in past tense, but that is what I am left with without her here. I don't want to tell how her story ended because the life she lived is so much more than that one moment in time. I've learned to say the word suicide without blinking, flinching, or crying in front of people. It's strange how people use suicide phrases in their daily vocabulary to express feelings or to joke around. I guess I never used to hear it before, I probably used to say use them myself more than I know, but now each word of those joking phrases jumps out and takes hold of my breath. Clutching my lungs tightly before slowly allowing me to breathe again. 

It's sad and tragic that we must assign a specific month, week, or even one day devoted to suicide awareness and prevention. Yet, suicide still seems to be something that is whispered instead of talked about. I am not ashamed that my daughter left the world the way she did. I do not begrudge her for not speaking out and asking for help through a difficult time, even though with every ounce of my being I wish she had. That's the thing... people who are suicidal don't think logically. They are experiencing an internal pain which takes over their thought process and presents only one possible solution. I wish I could have stopped her from feeling sad or alone in that moment of despair. I wish my love would have been strong enough to keep her here. I've had people say it's hard to understand how Amanda could have made such a "selfish" decision, taking away her pain and transferring it to her family and friends. In a moment of despair, you don't always stop to imagine how the world would be darkened without your light or have the ability to picture your life getting better. Whether you are 16 and experiencing a break up with the love of your life or 60 and tired of feeling numb and hollow, the depth of emotional desperation is immeasurable. You truly believe that no one will understand your pain or that no one can make you feel whole again. 

This is where I need to you to listen though. Those voices in your head are WRONG. You WILL make it through. You are NOT going to feel this way forever. This world WOULD be dark and sad without you in it. YES... even perfect strangers will ache at the loss of you. There are so many people who would do anything to help you. To listen to your story and sing a song of hope to your soul. You matter. If you are thinking that suicide is your only way out. It isn't. You say you don't want to burden anyone with your pain, but the pain you would leave them to deal with would me 100 x's worse. Trust me. Stop thinking about the rope, the gun, the pills, the knife, and any other exit strategy you've been planning. Reach out to someone. Anyone. None of us were meant to journey through this world alone. Please keep living. Please... Please stay. You are loved beyond measure. Live wisely and always choose the right.

Burning Embers

Sirens breaking through the stillness of the night
Jarring those sleeping from the comfort of their bed
Burning embers quickly spread  with dangerous flight
Licking the hills with their flaming tongues of orange and red
Families watching as their homes burn to the ground
Memories sent to the heavens in billows of smoke
Tears etch their way down the soot stained skin they've found
Arms of neighbors and strangers become their cloak
Small voices asking parents "Where do we call home now"
While heros come sharing food, clothes, shelter, money and heart
They cling to each other and take a silent vow
They will fall together in comfort and not crumble apart
Strengthened by the love of co-workers, family, and friends
They receive blessings because of those burning embers
So much lost and so much to mend
But it's the love and charity their hearts remember

May we always remember to comfort each other and fall together.  My sincere gratitude and thanks to the firefighters who have saved so many people and homes.
Kristen Andrews

Please Stay (5 years)

It's been five years now since Amanda left us physically. Five years since I have heard her voice, seen her smile, watched her sleep, cuddled her on the couch, heard her say "I love you too", been wrapped tightly in one of her daily hugs, stared admiringly at her as she walked away confidently, received some random weird text video about wanting food, or enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

Amanda's friends still refer to our home as "Amanda's house" when they tell people where they are. It will always be Amanda's house, Amanda's family and dog. You know... I'm totally okay with that too. It warms my heart from within. It means they still feel her here in our home and hopefully it will always be a place of comfort and security for them.

Even though it's been five years since her death, she never leaves my mind and my heart still aches for her. I'm able to pull myself together every day by focusing on the good memories. I like to look over at the passenger seat of my car where she would have been rushing to put on her make up before school. I imagine her so vividly that I can feel her warmth next to me and see her look over at me and smile. It took me almost three years before i didn't have a day when driving to work and my mind didn't drift back to memories of the day we lost her and the days that followed. I would replay every moment in slow motion, as tears gently burned their trace across my skin.  Where I was when I got the call, who was in the room with me, the guilt over not answering my phone on the first time Lauren called me because my meeting at work seemed more important, having to make those heart wrenching calls to the rest of our family to tell them to "Come home. Please come home". Having my boss walk me to her car to drive me home and pleading gently with God the whole way there. The overwhelming love and support from friends, family, and even strangers. When I got to work, I would dry my eyes, take a deep breath, and move forward. I still have rare occasions when the memories come flooding back, but  they don't drown my soul like they used to.

I don't want to remember that day or the time that followed, but it's a part of my memory just as strong as the day I gave birth to her. I wonder what it would be like if she were still here. What job she would have, who her boyfriend would be, what fashion style she would be rocking, and whether I would have been wise enough to know I should cherish everything about her or would I just take for granted each moment I had been blessed to share with her. Sometimes I hear the shenanigans her friends get into and think "well... At least I don't have to go through that or worry about Amanda making poor choices" and then I'm filled with instant regret because I would be so happy to have just one more argument or one night of lecturing her for coming home late. At least, in the end, I would have her here with me. She might be mad or disappointed that she was in trouble, but she would be here.

I don't like speaking in past tense, but that is what I am left with without her here. I don't want to tell how her story ended because the life she lived is so much more than that one moment in time. I've learned to say the word suicide without blinking, flinching, or crying in front of people. It's strange how people use suicide phrases in their daily vocabulary to express feelings or to joke around. I guess I never used to hear it before, I probably used to say use them myself more than I know, but now each word of those joking phrases jumps out and takes hold of my breath. Clutching my lungs tightly before slowly allowing me to breathe again.

It's sad and tragic that we must assign a specific month, week, or even one day devoted to suicide awareness and prevention.  Yet, suicide still seems to be something that is whispered instead of talked about. I am not ashamed that my daughter left the world the way she did. I do not begrudge her for not speaking out and asking for help through a difficult time, even though with every ounce of my being I wish she had. That's the thing... people who are suicidal don't think logically. They are experiencing an internal pain which takes over their thought process and presents only one possible solution. I wish I could have stopped her from feeling sad or alone in that moment of despair. I wish my love would have been strong enough to keep her here. I've had people say it's hard to understand how Amanda could have made such a "selfish" decision, taking away her pain and transferring it to her family and friends. In a moment of despair, you don't always stop to imagine how the world would be darkened without your light or have the ability to picture your life getting better. Whether you are 16 and experiencing a break up with the love of your life or 60 and tired of feeling numb and hollow, the depth of emotional desperation is immeasurable. You truly believe that no one will understand your pain or that no one can make you feel whole again.

This is where I need to you to listen though.  Those voices in your head are WRONG. You WILL make it through. You are NOT going to feel this way forever. This world WOULD be dark and sad without you in it. YES... even perfect strangers will ache at the loss of you. There are so many people who would do anything to help you. To listen to your story and sing a song of hope to your soul. You matter. If you are thinking that suicide is your only way out. It isn't. You say you don't want to burden anyone with your pain, but the pain you would leave them to deal with would me 100 x's worse. Trust me. Stop thinking about the rope, the gun, the pills, the knife, and any other exit strategy you've been planning. Reach out to someone. Anyone. None of us were meant to journey through this world alone. Please keep living. Please... Please stay.

You are loved beyond measure. Live wisely and always choose the right.

Blessed

You know that feeling you get when you download a new playlist, set it on shuffle, and just start walking while the words dance through your thoughts touching on distant memories? You look up at the stars and feel the night air gently kiss your skin. That feeling you get when you are embraced by the realization that there really is so much more than this material world we are walking through and the moment of gratitude that sinks into every ounce of your soul because you know without a doubt that God's hand painted this life for you.  The good, the bad, happy and even the tragically sad. He knew you would need bright colors, highlighted with just the right edge of darkness. He knew that darkness would help you learn to shine even brighter. He never asked you to paint the colors alone. He is with you in every stroke. He asks nothing of you. He just wants to know if in the end... will you still choose Him like HE chose you.

I love that feeling. It's love, hope, joy, and heartache all rolled up in one. It's what I call being alive.

#Blessed.

"When We Turn Our Hearts to Our Ancestors, Something Changes Inside Us"

In our church, each member is assigned a "calling" or a job. We don't get paid financially for the work we do, but we are rewarded spiritually. My church calling is to help others learn about the how's and why's of doing family history/genealogy.  

Even though the Prophet Joseph Smith declared: "The greatest responsibility in this world that God has laid upon us is to seek after our dead" I personally didn't have an interest in genealogy until a few years ago. My thought was that it was something the "old folks" did. My grandmother, who we called "nana," was one of 13 children. Fortunately, one of her siblings took it upon themselves to research their genealogy and put together books for each family. I've read mine a few times, sitting comfortable with the knowledge that my work had been done. I honestly couldn't have been further from the truth. Just because I had a book with some names and dates did NOT mean my job was done. I was the only LDS member of the family that I knew of so temple work had not yet even been started on their behalf. Our church is not just interested in the dates our ancestors were born, married, deceased, and such. We are covenanted to do family history work so we can learn about our ancestors and grow closer to them. By learning who they are and the journey that they each traveled, we come to know ourselves and some of our own personal traits even better. For this reason, I don't refer to this work as genealogy, but as family history. We are all made up of dots and dashes. Dots are the dates that define our history and the dashes are the stories that defined US. 

Joseph Smith also taught that we must search out our ancestors and provide for them the saving ordinances of the gospel. "They without us should not be made perfect" (Hebrews 11:40) and "neither can we without our dead be made perfect" (D&C 128:15). Though I have read this many times, it wasn't until recently that I truly understood the meaning. 

When our 16 year old daughter, Amanda, passed away on July 11, 2012 we made the decision to donate her arm and leg bones, as well as other tissues. While on the phone with One Legacy, the organ donation group, I felt a slight test of my faith. I ran out to my husband and asked him if he was truly sure about our bodies being restored to their most perfect form. He said quite confidently that he was sure. I walked away thinking, "Man... if he is wrong she is going to be really mad at us for giving away her arm and leg bones!" It was a year before we could go and do Amanda's temple work. Even though we received updates from One Legacy letting us know how many lives Amanda had saved with the gift of organ donation, there was still a little spot in the back of my mind that wondered if I made the right choice. Finally, the day came to go through the temple to help Amanda complete her own work. As I stood in line to receive the initiatory blessings on her behalf, I could feel her spirit grow closer to me and stronger. There is a part of the blessing that says, "You will walk and not be weary, run and not be faint". It was at that moment when I saw a vision of Amanda dancing before me saying,"See mom, we did it. I'm fine". I felt like I was able to let out a long breath that I had been holding inside for a year. How grateful I was for that confirmation. Remembering this moment last night made the quote from Joseph Smith come alive. What he was saying is that " she... Amanda... without me (or someone here on earth to do the physical work her spirit could no)... would not be made perfect. And I... without having performed those ordinances for her would not have been given the relief my mind so desperately needed. 

Russell M. Nelson said, "When our hearts turn to our ancestors, something changes inside us." I have a personal testimony that this statement is true. For almost four years, I hadn't spoken to my mom and step-dad. There was always so much drama with my younger sister, that it was easier to just stay disconnected from them. Even though there was the genealogy book from my grandmothers sister, there were still some missing pieces to the puzzle and the only one who could help piece it together, was my mom. So I called my mom one day and asked her questions about her dad. The reason I couldn't find him in any papers was because the name I knew him by was not the name he went by legally. In fact, when he was 17 he wanted to sign up for the military to fight in WWWI, but since he wasn't old enough, he registered under his uncles name and used that for the rest of his life. Grandpa Bob, went by Claude Thomas Cooper. He was a driver for General Patton before he became a general, owned two gas stations, and was an iron worker on the golden state bridge. All of this information would have been lost without my asking my mother because she was the last of their family to pass it on. He was no longer just a dash on my family history chart. He had a story, a face, a name, and a dash. 

"Herein is the chain that binds the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the children to the fathers, which fulfills the mission of Elijah." My desire to learn more about my family brought me back to my mother. Our relationship is different, but better than it was. I learned that we both changed over the years and that's okay. 

One of the questions I deal with a lot in the Family History Class I teach is "What about the relatives we don't like?" The first time I heard this I had to ask the person to clarify. She said "he was a mean old man and I don't think God would approve of him." My answer is always the same. We are commanded to do the work, not to judge who should receive it. That person may choose to accept the gospel on the other side and become a changed person. They may not. Our job is simply to prepare their names, learn their stories, and help their temple work get done. God will handle the rest. 

Another comment I get is that the person isn't computer savvy. So what! We all have a role to play in family history work. If you aren't a computer wizard, be the one that gathers the stories. Have the young children who like to ask questions, ask those questions of their relatives and you write them down. For those of you that like to take pictures of everything, shoot away, but don't be stingy, load those pictures into Family Search or Ancestry.com. Youth and young adults, you are all such great textures! Why not put those fingers to work by asking a relative a daily question and adding it to a family journal?

I promise you that as you draw close to your family through learning about the paths they walked, your heart will grow full of love for them and bring you even closer to your father in heaven. 

Please Stay

On July 11th, 2012 our daughter Amanda died by suicide. It's been two years, one month and twenty-nine days since I have heard her voice, seen her smile, watched her sleep, cuddled her on the couch, heard her say "I love you too", been wrapped tightly in one of her daily hugs, stared admiringly at her as she walked away confidently, received some random weird text video about wanting food, or enjoyed the sound of her laughter. 

Amanda's friends still refer to our home as "Amanda's house" when they tell people where they are. It will always be Amanda's house, Amanda's BMW, Amanda's family and dog. You know... I'm totally okay with that too. It warms my heart from within. It means they still feel her here in our home and hopefully it will always be a place of comfort and security for them.

Even though it's been over two years since her death, she never leaves my mind and my heart still aches for her. I'm able to pull myself together every day by focusing on the good memories. I like to look over at the passenger seat of my car where she would have been rushing to put on her make up before school, leaving foundation finger smudges on my rear view mirror. I imagine her so vividly that I can feel her warmth next to me and see her look over at me and smile. I rarely have a day when I'm driving to work and my mind doesn't drift back to memories of the day we lost her and the days that followed. I replay every moment in slow motion, as tears gently burn their trace across my skin.  Where I was when I got the call, who was in the room with me, the guilt over not answering my phone the first time Lauren called me because my meeting at work seemed more important, having to make those heart wrenching calls to the rest of our family to tell them to "Come home. Please come home". Having my boss walk me to her car to drive me home and pleading gently with God the whole way there. The overwhelming love and support from friends, family, and even strangers. Oh... And all of the flowers that were delivered that week. It's weird how something so beautiful can feel so suffocating.  I relive this almost every day. When I get to work, I dry my eyes, take a deep breath, say a prayer to tell her I love her, and move forward. 

I don't want to remember that day or the time that followed, but it's a part of my memory just as strong as the day I gave birth to her. I wonder what it would be like if she were still here. What job she would have, who her boyfriend would be, what fashion style she would be rocking, and whether I would have been wise enough to know I should cherish everything about her or would I just take for granted each moment I had been blessed to share with her. Sometimes I hear the shenanigans her friends get into and think "well... At least I don't have to go through that or worry about Amanda making poor choices" and then I'm filled with instant regret because I would be so happy to have just one more argument or one night of lecturing her for coming home late. At least, in the end, I would have her here with me. She might be mad or disappointed that she was in trouble, but she would be here.

I don't like speaking in past tense, but that is what I am left with without her here. I don't want to focus on her story ended because the life she lived is so much more than that one moment in time. I've learned to say the word suicide without blinking, flinching, or crying in front of people. It's strange how people use suicide phrases in their daily vocabulary to express feelings or to joke around. I guess I never used to hear it before, I probably used to say them myself more than I know, but now each word of those joking phrases jumps out and takes hold of my breath. Clutching my lungs tightly before slowly allowing me to breathe again.

It's sad and tragic that we must assign a specific month, week, or even one day devoted to suicide awareness and prevention. There has been increasing attention and focus on suicide prevention, especially after a beloved celebrity passed by their own hand. Yet, suicide still seems to be something that is whispered instead of talked about. I am not ashamed that my daughter left the world the way she did. I do not begrudge her for not speaking out and asking for help through a difficult time, even though with every ounce of my being I wish she had. That's the thing... people who are suicidal don't think logically. They are experiencing an internal pain which takes over their thought process and presents only one possible solution. I wish I could have stopped her from feeling sad or alone in that moment of despair. I wish my love would have been strong enough to keep her here. I've had people say it's hard to understand how Amanda could have made such a "selfish" decision, taking away her pain and transferring it to her family and friends. In a moment of despair, you don't always stop to imagine how the world would be darkened without your light or have the ability to picture your life getting better. Whether you are 16 and experiencing a break up with the love of your life or 60 and tired of feeling numb and hollow, the depth of emotional desperation is immeasurable. You truly believe that no one will understand your pain or that no one can make you feel whole again. 

This is where I need to you to listen though...  

Those voices in your head are WRONG. You WILL make it through. You are NOT going to feel this way forever. This world WOULD be dark and sad without you in it. YES... even perfect strangers will ache at the loss of you. There are so many people who would do anything to help you. To listen to your story and sing a song of hope to your soul. You matter. If you are thinking that suicide is your only way out. It isn't. You say you don't want to burden anyone with your pain, but the pain you would leave them to deal with would be 100 x's worse. Trust me. Stop thinking about the rope, the gun, the pills, the knife, and any other exit strategy you've been planning. Reach out to someone. Anyone. None of us were meant to journey through this world alone. Please keep living. Please... Please stay.

You are loved beyond measure. Live wisely and always choose the right. 

Please post a candle in your front window at 8:00pm on September 10th in honor of world suicide prevention day.

Lessons I Learned From My Dog Walnut

I said I would speak at church when needed… as long as I could pick my own topic. Mostly because I’ve always wanted an opportunity to share a story with you that taught me so many lessons, sometimes I feel like I still have “aha” moments where I realize I still have more to learn, even though it happened over 14 years ago.

Lessons I learned From Walnut

As I tell you this story, I want to see if you can find the following lessons:

·      Be Prepared

·      Follow the council of priesthood holders

·      Are you really prepared?

·      Prayer works

·      Don’t pass judgment

·      Goodbye is not forever

Be Prepared

Back when we lived in Arcadia, our family rented an old Spanish style house on a large fenced in lot on the corner of Huntington Drive and Golden West. Some of you know it as the house that the MTA bus crashed into, which is totally irrelevant, but an interesting fact that drew my husband to the house. This was our first house and even though our last apartment was quite large and we were allowed to own a cat, it was just a cat. My girls and I wanted a dog. Dogs are way cooler.

Having had plenty of lectures from my husband about being a responsible pet owner, I did my homework. I went on line and researched animal breeds that would be good with young children. Amanda was about 4 ½ and the older girls were 11 at the time. The girls and I poured over animal shelter sites and searched for the perfect dog to rescue. We spent at least a couple hours doing our research. I even went down the Pasadena Humane Society to check out the dogs ahead of time, just to make sure my heart was really in it.  They explained that part of the adoption process was to have the pet meet each of the family members. Which in my mind meant I wasn’t going to be able to just sneak whatever dog we wanted home and say “surprise!” so Rich couldn’t say no.

Follow the Council of Priesthood Holders

That afternoon, Rich came home early and we met him with excitement and begged him to go with us to get a dog. Only one problem… Rich didn’t think we were ready for a dog. So on came the lecture “As a priesthood holder (yes, he actually pulled the priesthood card), I feel compelled to tell you that we are not ready to adopt a dog.  The side fence is broken and could fall over any time; we need to buy food and a dog bed. Someone needs to walk and clean up after it.  I explained that we HAD prepared by researching breeds and humane societies.

He had us have a family prayer together, where again he used words like guidance, being prepared, responsibility, etc. At the end of it we opened our eyes and said… “Can we go get a dog now!”  He just shook his head because he knew we only heard what we wanted to hear, which in our minds was “we are getting a dog!”

Somehow we got him to go with us to the Humane Society to “Just take a look”.   I grew up with a boxer and that’s what I wanted. A dog with short hair because I somehow remembered they would shed less (WRONG).  We had the attendants bring back a couple dogs for us to meet that met my criteria, but in actuality were crazy hyper and all over the place. Then she brought back a dog she thought our girls would like. A big 105lb Anatolian Sheppard named Walnut who was covered in thick, long hair.

Rich sat in a corner completely irritated and uninterested. The dog went and lay behind him, trying to hide farther back. Then the attendant told us his story. Walnut was given to a little girl named Haley for Christmas. She and her mom loved him for 3 years, until her mom passed away from cancer and Haley had to move in with her dad and her step mom. They told us how awful it was the day Haley had to say good bye to her dog and how cruel that step mom must be to not let her keep him. Now Walnut had not only lost the only two people in his world, but had been taken to a shelter where they were running out of time on how long they could keep him. He was acting very depressed and never showed any interest in people that came to check him out, until our girls came up to his cage. She said that they probably reminded him of Haley. That is when I noticed that Rich’s hand had left his lap and was calmly petting the sweet, scared dog behind him. That’s when he looked at me and said, “We are taking this dog”.

Our happy family left the humane society plus one dog that night and took him directly to the groomer for a bath. That’s where we learned that he was a complete chicken and had to be carried, all 105 lbs of him, into the groomers or doctors office.

Are You Really Prepared?

When we got him home, Rich took off Walnut’s collar to make it a little larger. We decided that while he did this, we would take our new dog outside so he could get to know his new yard. That’s when he walked over to the side of the yard, pushed on the fence that was broken, which fell over and scared him so bad he took off running – right down Huntington Drive during 5:30 pm traffic. I chased after him as the girls went to get their dad.  The last I saw of him, he was about 2 blocks ahead of me and disappeared into some bushes. We checked those bushes over and over again, to no avail. That’s when we broke up into two cars and started our 2-hour search.  Lauren and I searched while Amanda was in the backseat making commentaries like “Well… we HAD a dog.” And “Dad said we weren’t ready for a dog, I guess this is what he meant.”

Prayer Works

Finally, in desperation I pulled over in front of the bushes where I had last seen him. It was getting really dark and our chances of finding him were growing slim. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I said, “Let’s pray”. That’s when I said “Look Lord, I know we suck as dog owners, and maybe we weren’t as prepared as I thought we were, but if you help us find this sweet lost dog, I promise you we will be good to him and treat him like part of our family.” I opened my eyes and found Lauren just staring at me… “That’s the prayer that’s going to get our dog back?” she questioned me.  “just go look in the bushes again”, I told her.  She walked over to the building and just as she was walking up to the bushes, the garden lights came on and were shining brightly on a terrified dog. Lauren excitedly came running back to the car, exclaiming, “Your prayer worked! He’s in the bushes!” And I yelled back… “and you just left him there! Go get him!” We took him home and the next day Rich fixed the fence.

Don’t Pass Judgment

Two weeks later the girls and I were proudly walking our new dog. When we got to the park, a car pulled up beside us with a little girl and what looked like her mother. The little girl rolled her window down and said, “Did you adopt that dog? Is his name Walnut?” I looked at her and said “We did. Are you Haley?” She told us about how she used to put dresses and high heels on him and how much she loved him, but when her mom died and she moved in with her dad, the apartment was too small for him and there wasn’t a yard for him to play in so he just seemed so unhappy. Her step mom said it was the hardest thing they had to do, but they knew giving him up would be best for him. 

Immediately, I felt this bitterness in my heart that I held towards a woman I had never met, dissolve and a gentle reminder from the Lord that it wasn’t my role to judge in the first place. We are to love unconditionally, just like a dog who gratefully wags his tail with forgiveness, joy, and enthusiasm... even after being left home alone all day. We swapped information with them and told them they could see him anytime.

Years later, in 2006, we took Walnut to the vet because he was having problems with his hip. When they did an xray to see if he was healthy enough for surgery, they found a large mass in his lungs.  We made a decision to take him home and love him until he showed us he was ready to go. When that day came, we called a vet out to our house. Walnut was in a lot of pain and just keep crying and throwing his head on the ground so the vet gave him something to calm him so the girls and our dog Spike could come out and say good bye. As he lay on his favorite rug, next to the door way between our living and dining room, we said a family prayer and told him what an amazing member of the family he had been. How he taught us how to love unconditionally and brought so much joy into our lives. Then we released him from this world and his pain. It was the most heartbreaking, yet beautiful experience in my life.

Six years later, our family came together in prayer in the exact same spot where we said good bye to Walnut, to say goodbye and release our daughter Amanda from this mortal world. She also gave so much, but left much too soon.  Though our hearts ached to say good bye, there was also a sweet realization that goodbye is not final. Walnut left early so he could be there to welcome Amanda home again. They ARE together again.

I testify to you that if we prepare ourselves appropriately, not just by reading scriptures occasionally, but by living a life that proves we are prepared for the Savior to come again, and if we not just seek, but follow the council of our priesthood holders, turning to The Lord in earnest prayer that is free from judgment and pride, that our goodbyes will not be forever.

The Slow Dance of Grief

My sweet friend, who recently lost her husband after a long battle with a terminal illness, sent me a text. In it she asked "Does the pain ever go away?"  Having lived with my own grief for almost two years now, I answered her as I wish someone would had me. I said...

Honestly... The pain of losing someone never goes away. You just learn how to manage it. It's like an uninvited guest who sits quietly... waiting for you to acknowledge its presence. In the beginning it climbs all over you like a cranky two year old who can't be satisfied... no matter how much you coddle it, or pray for it to be still and let you rest. 

Each breath you take will leave you aching for more... Like you never have enough air to fill you up. You become numb and wonder what matters and what doesn't. You struggle to feel anything, even though you also feel everything so intensely. Your life will be split into time frames of remembrance. Your life when you felt complete and everything was good... Even when it wasn't. The day you lost your love. And the day after when you stepped into your new life of having to live physically apart. 

Then one day you realize in a strange moment that it hasn't begged you to hold it or cry with it for a few hours and you feel a little guilty because you actually feel relieved to not have to entertain it. Sometimes you feel obligated to dance a slow painful and unfamiliar dance with this unwanted partner. He pushes you backwards as you step on his toes. Over time, you learn the dance. Eventually you gain quiet strength and you tell your guest... "It's time for me to take the lead. I will dance with you and I will hold you close to my heart, but I will set the pace and melody."

Slowly... You start to heal. You can say their name without people flinching in sadness. You find yourself loving more deeply and forgiving more freely. Your memories become a beautiful song that plays gently in the background of your life, like the soundtrack of your heart. Sometimes, like during holidays and special anniversary dates, the music will blast in your head until you learn that it's okay to turn it down again. It never really stops playing. You never stop hearing it, but it softens and becomes your partner. The pain... Just like the music or the unwanted guest is truly always there. You just learn to lead it in your own dance. Somehow... All that emptiness is slowly filled with hope for the future and the knowledge that you will be together again. 

Graduation Day

To Amanda's senior friends -

This message is to all of Amanda's friends who are finishing up their last day(s) of high school and who have already, or who are now preparing to walk across that graduation stage. We are so proud of you. We know that your high school journey was filled with many ups and downs. You experienced friends who brought new life into this world and the loss of friends dear to you. You've gone through trials that pushed you to grow into young adults faster than expected. Some of you have stumbled along the way and some of you shared your strength to help those who had fallen to stand back up again. If you are one who has stumbled, I hope you don't beat yourself up over it. We've all been there a time or two. As Amanda once said "live and let learn . Brush it off. There would be no learning if everyone didn't step off their path for a while."

Many of you have expressed how wrong it feels to graduate without Amanda walking beside you. While we feel that too, I also believe she will be walking that stage THROUGH you. Because each and every accomplishment and struggle, she has been there to whisper guidance and encourage you to choose the right.

I was a little bummed that the MHS principal wouldn't consider having an extra seat left open for your two missing classmates or let Amanda's dog, Spike, walk on her behalf because he didn't want to glorify the actions that caused their death. I was bummed, but I understand. Sometimes adults think they know what's best for you "kids". He is just looking out for you.

What I realize now is that you are aren't kids anymore. You are now young adults and you don't need an empty seat to acknowledge the loss you have felt and how you wish your friends could be there with you. They will be.

Mrs. Baham was kind enough to get our family tickets to the graduation and it will be our honor to be there in the stands to celebrate your journey.

Just because you are graduating, don't think you need to have your life figured out. You have plenty of years left to be an adult. Take time to explore your options and become the person that brings you the most joy in your life.

Please know we will always be here for you. To give a warm hug, listen, make you tacos, whatever you need (except college homework help - I'm done with homework!)

Live wisely and always choose the right.

Sincerely - The Andrews

Spiritual Self Reliance

Last week my husband and I were asked to give a talk in church on spiritual self reliance, so I thought I'd share my talk with you too. 

The topic sounded like a contradiction in itself. I've always felt I like spiritual self reliance isn't about becoming independent of god, but becoming completely dependent on him. Our Heavenly Father is there and a relationship with him is essential to building spiritual strength. Yes, he wants us to be independent in our temporal needs, but he has shown us over and over again, through scripture and revelation that he has not sent us here to walk this world alone.

In the end we can't be spiritually self-reliant because we're completely dependent on God. Stop trying to be self-reliant in that area; say "Uncle". Think of the hymns: "I Need Thee Every Hour" and the line from "Guide Us O Thou Great Jehovah" that says "we are weak but thou art able..." He gives us tools, but we need to create a quiet place/ time in our lives so that we can tune in. Nobody else can get you to Heaven...you have to have your own testimony.

The blessings of temporal self-reliance become obvious in times of crises, but spiritual self-reliance is equally crucial in difficult times. Those with firm spiritual foundations are blessed with peace, reassurance, and greater faith when calling on Heavenly Father for help.

When our sweet Amanda passed away the weight of our loss was so heavy that I did the only thing I knew would help me through. I prayed.

I asked The Lord to carry my heartache until I was strong enough to carry it on my own. To lend me His strength so I could be there for our family and all of Amanda's friends.

Before her physical body left our home, her father gave her a priesthood blessing. The police officers who responded to our home stood amongst us, heads reverently bowed, tears in their eyes, leaning on the strength of OUR faith.

When our home was filled that evening with about fifty of Amanda's family and friends, I knew the one blessing that we could share with them was the assurance that Heavenly Father would not leave them alone in their sorrow, so we gathered everyone together and offered up a prayer of comfort for them.

When I spoke to the representatives at One Legacy about organ donation, I knew without question that it was what she and Heavenly Father would want us to do. But when I was asked about donating her arm and leg bones I had to run outside and ask my husband "you're sure about us being restored to our most perfect form right? Cause if not Amanda's going to be really mad!" A year later I went through the temple to help amanda receive her endowments. During the washing and anointing part when the blessing says "you will walk and not be weary, run and not be faint" I heard amanda say, "See mom, I'm fine!" And I cried like a baby in relief. I already knew the answer to that question, but The Lord sent his reassurance anyway.

During Amanda's viewing and memorial service I felt like I, as well as my family, had arms wrapped around us. I never once thought to myself, "I can handle this on my own." Instead I gave myself up completely to The Lord and allowed him to help guide me through.  

When brother Mike Miller spoke at her service about the plan of salvation, I felt like The Lord was speaking directly to me, through him. Reminding me that Jesus was standing by Amanda's side pleading her case to our father in heaven. When one of her sisters questioned how god could take her Sister away, I held her tight and said "He is just as sad as we are. But he wants you to know that even though this was not his doing, he sent angels into our home to carry her spirit to him" The adversary wants us to believe this was gods doing so we will turn away from our one true savior. He knows the only way for us to see the blessings we received in the temple when our family was sealed together come to fruition is if we don't let our faith be shaken. Satan preyed on Amanda's moment of desperation, but he doesn't realize he lost because we have all just grown closer to god.

When a lady at the nail salon asked me in all sincerity if Mormons believed that suicide was a sin and that our daughter would go to hell. I looked her straight in the eyes and told her that the beauty of Heavenly Father is that he loves and forgives us all. That I can move forward each day because I know with every bit of my heart, mind, and soul that she is with Him.

When we were inspired to start the Amanda Panda CTR foundation to share the message to choose the right, I got on my knees to ask The Lord what he wanted me to do and how I, personally, should share this valuable message. I listened for his promptings and then followed them without question. When I have someone reach out to me  on our Facebook pledge page in a moment of despair, I always stop and ask Heavenly Father how I should respond, and if it's a teenager in need, I ask amanda to help me phrase what The Lord wants me to say in a way that will connect with someone her age.  I talk to them or text them until I am comfortable that they are okay. At the end of those moments, when I can finally let out a sigh of relief, I give thanks and say "WE did it. We saved another life today." I don't say "I" or "You" but we, because it is my reliance on Heavenly Father that I may hear and receive his message and my willingness to set aside my own thoughts to relay what he knows his special child needs to hear. This to me is spiritual self reliance.

I've shared this dream with some, but I'd like to share it with you again. This dream happened about a month after Amanda passed away. This dream was significant because I had stopped having dreams with amanda in them, just as had everyone else in our family. So when this dream occurred it was a reassurance of things I felt I knew, but spoken to me in a way I could understand them. I remember there was a faint odor coming from the side of our house. When I went to the side of the house, I found a doorway that led to a very long hallway that was connected to our house. Down that hallway were little pee puddles and near the end of that long hall was Spike, Amanda's chihuahua, lifting his leg on the wall, leaving a trail that led me straight to a room. Spike was looking at me like "can I make this anymore obvious... Follow me" When I opened the door to the room, Spike ran happily inside.  Inside the room was a bed like Amanda's and a big white fluffy down comforter just like she had. I was looking around the room and then looked at the bed when I saw the comforter move. Amanda was under the covers. She looked out at me and smiled and said "Hi mama". I looked down at her and said "Hi sweetie. I've missed you. What are you doing in this room?" She climbed out from under the fluffy comforter and said, "I'm helping some other kids cross to the other side. See... here comes one now." Then a little child appeared and she went to the wall, which appeared very thin, and she led the child through the wall saying "It's okay... go to Him." Then she climbed back under the comforter and pulled it up to her chin and said, "I love you mama." I said "I love you too baby", then I walked out of the room to find a Swiffer to clean up the pee puddles leaving Amanda to do her job.

Figures... I would finally have a dream with Amanda in it and all I can think about is cleaning up the pee puddles! I thought about that dream a lot though and find great peace in it. It assured me that she is okay. She still loves and knows us and that she is doing Heavenly Father's work.  It tells me that the veil is thin and she is still very close to us... as close as crossing over a hallway to another room. It also reminded me that following Spike was like following the spirit. if you are willing to listen and follow the spirit's promptings, good things will await you and you will be guided to the path that brings you to Him and those you love.

On another night, more recently, Amanda was on my mind a lot and I couldn't sleep, so I laid in bed reading. I heard her dog, Spike, start to whimper in his sleep and I wondered if he was having a bad dream. Then my mind raced to a thought that maybe he missed Amanda. Then I thought "what if he doesn't remember her?" And my tears started to fall like a faucet that had been left on. "Does she miss US? Does she miss me?" It was a moment of sad desperation. A mother needing to know that her daughter loved her and missed her. It's weird because I usually feel so secure in this knowledge, but this night, I needed a sign. I needed to know with all my heart that my Amanda loved me and missed me as much as i did her. I selfishly wanted to know that she was sad too. Not so sad that she couldn't be happy or that her heart ached from longing, but enough to miss us. So I prayed. I prayed that God would let her know how much I loved and missed her and that He would give a sign that she loved and missed me too. I prayed and I cried.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep. I was deep in a world of comfort and much needed rest when I I was awoken by a kiss. A soft kiss planted gently on the upper left side of my lip. I moved my hand to that spot in bewilderment and confusion. When I touched that spot I felt a tiny seed of moisture right above where the sensation on my lip still lingered. A teardrop. I rubbed the moisture between my thumb and trigger finger in disbelief. Then I quickly felt my eyes to see if I was crying in my sleep. I wasn't. I sat up and studied my husbands sleeping position to see if maybe he gleeked me, but he was facing the opposite direction. As I searched desperately for a legitimate answer, I heard a tender chuckle say "mama... You asked for God and I to send you a sign. Why is it so hard to believe He would answer your prayer?" "I love you and I miss you more than you'll ever know, but I am ALWAYS with you."

So you may be thinking I'm crazy and that's okay because it's hard for me to believe too, but I am just going to try and accept it for what it was and needs to be for me. God heard my plea and answered my prayer. He allowed Amanda to give me a tender kiss and when she did, a tear drop fell from her eyes. She loves us. She misses us. And she is always with me. God hears our every prayer. The answers will come if we are patient and faithful. He will not leave us alone. He wants us to turn to him not just our moments of sorrow, but to lift up our voices in gratitude for all the subtle blessings in our life.

Having such strong spiritual connections to our Heavenly Father does not free us from the burdens and challenges of life. You may notice that I usually leave after sacrament. This new life of ours has brought with it challenges of dealing with depression and a need to experience more calmness and quiet moments with The Lord. I find myself sitting in our backyard having conversations with God as I soak in the sounds of a hummingbird stealing nectar from our flowers or feeling a gentle breeze swish through our trees. Each moment becomes a personal connection between the savior, The Lord, Amanda, and myself. I don't just wait for significant moments of beauty to remind me of this beautiful gift of life we have been given, I constantly seek out those moments. His love is all around us, it's in the laughter that fills our home from having Amanda's best friends over all the time. Itstares back at me from the eyes of Amanda's best friends little baby, Nathan. It's in the hugs and smiles my daughters share. I have a strong spiritual connection with The Lord because I WANT to have one, so I make an effort to keep him near.

Heavenly Father wants us to wrap HIS arms around ourselves, to carry his spirit with us always so our testimony can be a beacon of light to others. He wants us to be spiritually self reliant by being dependent upon him, not independent from him. I don't wish for anyone to experience the loss we have, but I do wish you could each have something that opens your heart and soul to the revelation that the relationship you have with your Heavenly Father is the most important one you will ever experience. I pray that you will find peace and strength in the knowledge that he is there to guide you through this journey back to Him.

 

The Words I Would Say

When I think of what Amanda would tell her friends to encourage them to keep living and not make the same mistake she did, this song by the Sidewalk Prophets often comes to mind. Be strong in The Lord and never give up hope. 

Live wisely and always choose the right.