The Three Amigos

1992

Some call them the three amigos

Others know them by their given names

There is P.K., Styx and the Wild Man

Through different walks of life they came.

Almost as if they were brought together,

To share a part in each others destiny.

Three men and their musical instruments,

Friendships that were just meant to be.

When they played their powerfully sweet music,

They played from the heart and the soul.

The world seemed to fade slowly away,

Into the sound of some cool rock n roll.

In the lyrics they found great meaning.

In the rhythm they found hope and peace.

They sang because it was in these moments,

When everything wrong came to cease.

To hear crowds applaud in awe of their talents,

And create memories for those whom they played.  

They shared dreams of becoming a legend,

That got lost somewhere along the way.

They became a part-time backyard band,

Their groupies were their children and wives.

And though they may not know it is so,

They are a legend in each of our eyes.

our souls were gently touched by their music.

So even when they've sang their last song,

The memories will always take us back again,

And in our hearts the band will play on. 

I'll Cry No More for You

 1993

I'll cry no more for you

No longer shall I fight in vain

My soul has learned to slowly heal

Though some memories return my pain

Once your silent victim

No voice, no hope, no pride

The only friend I had was me

With whom I could confide. 

I'll cry no more for you

For your conscious sees no wrong

Your heavy hand shall hurt no more

This time I'll be gone.

I tried to make excuses

For the anger that you knew.

Praying it would fade with time.

Instead it only grew.

Years have passed without you.

My pride has been restored.

Sometimes I'm reminded by a memory

But you know... I cry no more. 

Time Stand Still

1994

May time stand still a moment so in my arms you'll stay
May the morning light be so kind not to steal this dream away.
May the warmth of your body be felt forever on my skin.
May time stand still a moment so I can feel your touch again.
May time stand still a moment and the passion linger a while.
May I relinquish all my days to hold the magic of your smile.
May this honesty and friendship be known for always in my heart.
May time stand still a moment so our souls shall never part.
May time stand still a moment... just a moment I request
May be lose ourselves in time while reality takes a rest.
May we love without letting go... still unsure of our destiny.
May time stand still a moment and forever in our memory.

Thank you. From Dave Estrada to Bob O'leary

 Again - back in the 1990's, one of our xray service engineers, Dave Estrada, asked me to write something for one of our senior engineers, Bob O'Leary, who helped train and mentor him. I wrote this and we had it printed and framed for Bob. 

Have I ever thanked you for all you've done for me?
For taking me under your wing, and knowing when to set me free.
You guided me when I needed, but trusted the decisions I made.

You taught me how to set boundaries then showed me some tricks of our trade.

You never hovered above me or told me to do things your way.

Instead, you gave me confidence in knowing your help was only a call away.

You demonstrated how to be a leader and when to follow another's lead.

With skill, knowledge, and understanding, you helped make me a man of your breed.

You gave me a push in the right direction and encouraged me to try and grow.

Now I hold a position like yours and it means more than you'll ever know.

You made it okay to believe in myself and take pride in the work I do.

I've risen higher than I ever expected and I owe so much of me to you.

Shortly after I started at Kaiser Permanente, I was hired by our Medical Physics department. This department was in charge of testing, approving, and repairing all of the xray and film developing equipment in SCAL. I had a little office at the end of the hall with a door that had a window. I kept my door closed from time to time because in a department that had about 50 men and 4 women, it could get crazy. These were physicists, engineers, and technicians. Being only 23 years old, I was their service dispatcher and pretty much the young sister or daughter to all of them. We had really long connecting hallways with offices on either side. Sometimes those guys would engage their smart brains and have paper airplane contests or other activities that made the hallways a little iffy to walk through. Don Larson, one of our physicists, was always barreling through the hall - never looking up.   I wrote this for one of our Christmas parties (hence the night before Christmas rhythm). 

It was the day before tomorrow and the morning after yesterday.

Everyone in our busy office was working diligently away.

Carol needed to make some copies, but she wasn't sure if she dare.

For here in Medical Physics... Danger lurks everywhere. 

But copies were what she needed and her job she had to do.

Slowly she crept to the doorway, saying a prayer or two.

With one foot in front of the other, she looked to her left then her right.

She took great care and caution, making sure no one was in sight.

Little did poor Carol know, Don Larson was coming down the other hall.

His eyes directed towards the floor in hopes of preventing a fall.

Just as he rounded the corner and much to Carol's surprise,

He came upon his innocent victim and dismay fell to his eyes. 

Carmen summoned Bruce and Chuck in hopes that they could help,

But they were busing discussing Chuck's cabinets and kitchen shelves.

Barbara tried to reach Jim and Dave, but they were somewhere in the back,

Debating with our processor technicians the importance of cleaning a rack.

Barbara tried another line, calling Dominic and Dick Loo.

She had no way of knowing they were both in the computer room.

Meanwhile, there poor Carol lay still struggling to get to her feet,

Only to be trampled once more, by physicists leaving to eat.

They were so lost in their indecision of deciding where to dine,

They never heard poor Carol moan or release a painful whine.

By the time I came to help, Carol was no longer on the ground.

She had crawled her way to the copy room... only to find it broken down. 

The moral to this little story... you'll soon see my choice was wise.

When choosing an office in Medical Physics, pick safety over size.

The Eyes of Good-Bye

I wrote this back in the early 1990's. I don't know who I was thinking of at the time. I'm a people watcher and feel like I can see into the soul of another and pull out words they can not say. This one wasn't for me though, I know that. Doesn't matter. Here you go...

Here I am, with pen in hand, not really sure what to say. 

I never thought I'd be feeling like this. I never though you'd walk away. 

Yet you have and as surprised as I may be.

I believe what is best for all is that I set you free.

Our love started like a fairytale, something distant and unreal. 

The comprehension of a compromise which portrays the love we feel.

While that love has lasted, it has changed in many ways. 

I can tell you how much I love you, but I can not make you stay.

Your eyes sparkle with a new love, that for me had long ago.

Somehow after fighting your tears, you managed to bring back that glow.

While I hope it never disappears again, I regret it's not due to me.

Sometimes the truth is so painfully clear, that our hearts choose not to see.

I was blinded by my foolishness in thinking you'd never leave.

The loss, I must confess is truly mine, and it is I alone who will grieve.

I know I didn't tell you often, a mistake I'll never forget, 

But your beauty captured my heart one day and it hasn't left it yet.

I've come to see the difference people can make in your life.

I'll always treasure the moment that you became my wife. 

My love, as you have grown away and we have grown apart.

Please know you will always hold a very special place in my heart.

Let this not be a parting that brings on many tears.

So many moments of joy will be remembered from our years. 

I wish you a lifetime of rainbows filled with colors of the spring. 

And I pray that you are happy with all that life may bring.

You'll never know how sorry I am for holding these words for so long. 

I guess I thought I'd always have the chance, until the chance was gone.

Yes, in the eyes of good-bye you can learn so much.

Doors you should have opened and lives you could have touched.

Going back isn't easy and time won't stand still for me.

So take hold of these wings and fly towards your destiny.

And when people ask my why I still care, I'll be sure to tell them why.

I'd forgotten how much I loved you, until I was looking in the eyes of good-bye.

See Me

See me...
Not for the frail old woman trapped in this bed.
Look past my messy grey hair and time wrinkled skin.
They only tell you the story of who I am now,
Not the people I’ve loved or the places I’ve been.

See me…

Not how my limbs have become so limp and weak.
See my spirit waiting to burst free from this shell.
My memories play a game of hide and seek,
Taunting me cruelly while in limbo I dwell.

See me…

Not the person who seems old and senile.
I am not the pain that stole the brilliant blue from my eyes.
I am the woman who could light up a room with my smile.
Look past what you see now, it is just a disguise.

See me…

Not the body laying here waiting in heaven’s queue.
The person I used to be; a woman, a mother, a wife,
Is desperately trying to reach out to you,
To thank you for blessing my beautiful life.

See Me…

My lips grow tired from trying to form unspoken words.
This is not how I want to be.
I don’t want to leave you, but you know I just can’t stay.
I promise you though, one day soon, you’ll see me.

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.