My mother

I lost my mother to cancer seven years ago today.

Time truly does help heal all wounds, but sometimes I still miss her so much. I miss her when I can't pick up the phone and call her for advice on giving piano lessons or filing tax returns or getting crayon off of ceramic tile or calming a teething baby.

I miss her on birthdays and holidays and at family events like weddings and baby blessings. I miss her knowing that she will never meet Peter or Megan or Colin in this life.

Even so, the thought of her now brings a smile or a laugh more often than a tear.

I know that death is not the end and that one day, I will see my mother again! And I know that I will want to tell her thank you.

Thank you for all the hot breakfasts; I used to take the leftover muffins and biscuits to school and trade them for fruit snacks and string cheese. :)

Thank you for coming to watch me race in Cross Country meets even though you only got to see me run by once or maybe twice.

Thank you for editing the school papers I left on your desk in the middle of the night the day they were due; I knew you would be up at 5am to read your scriptures and find them there.

Thank you for teaching me the value of education and hard work and for your example of serving others.

Thank you for putting up with a crazy teenage daughter who thought she knew it all.

Thank you for never letting me leave the house without a hug and a kiss and a "I sure do love you."

Thank you for showing me how to be steadfast in the Gospel and for teaching me principles like faith and hope.

I am fairly certain that I will always miss her, but my faith and my hope tell me that even though she is not here physically, that she is still watching over us, and that she always will be.

I love you, Mom.
(Note: The link above is to a short slideshow of photos from my mom's life. You can also view it by clicking here.)

Trip to Columbus

We spent 5 days in Columbus, Ohio to attend the baby blessing of my nephew Clark and as an added perc to all of the newborn snuggling, we got to hang out with my sister Melissa and her husband Kevin. It was so fun to have my brother Matthew and my parents there as well.

The boys watching the BYU football game

Grandpa and Colin playtime

After Clark's blessing

Hmm...I wonder what these guys are talking about?


Does it get any cuter than this?!?!

Colin gets some Auntie Lissa time

Grandpa and Grandma watching the kiddies


In case you were wondering, yes, Colin will chew on anything

We're thinking about keeping Kevin on retainer as our babysitter

We took a trip to Friendly's (for those who have never been East, they have the best ice cream sundaes!) and I don't know who was more excited: Megan, or Grandpa.

Peter and Matthew battle it out in chess and teach Colin and Clark all their tricks

Peter and Clark take a snooze


Our little "Deb"
(Peter styled Megan's hair like this - have you seen Napoleon Dynamite?)

Matching Glowy's!

We spent our last day in Columbus at the zoo and we had so much fun. Peter got the lion to roar, we watched a bison charge some zoo workers (don't worry, they got out in time), and spent at least 20 minutes watching some cute river otters which was definitely the highlight for the kids as well as the parents.

Poor Colin is exhausted from having so much fun

Better than I could

This was quoted by Elder Ballard in one of my favorite conference talks and sums up part of what I was trying to say in my last post.

Author Anna Quindlen reminds us not to rush past the fleeting moments. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”(Loud and Clear [2004], 10–11).