Sunday, July 12, 2020
I miss you, my dear brother.
Thou art not gone, wherever thou art. Thou leavest thy watchful eye and thy loving heart.
Friday, May 8, 2020
Nathan
The other night on the phone with Dad he said "you know what Nate would say" then proceeded to tell me exactly what you probably WOULD say. Your voice always sounded just like his. For a moment, it was so comforting. I just miss you so much.
I miss seeing your shoes on our porch. I miss climbing with you. Taking the girls places with you. Eating ice cream on the couch and complaining. You always ate everything I made too, and you always seemed to like it. I'm still mad your last birthday dinner wasn't perfect. I should've done a practice run of that fucking corned beef. I don't know how to cook that shit. Sometimes I get in my car and I look at the passenger seat and it hits me that you'll never sit there again and I miss all of that. How having you around made me feel, how it made all of us feel - you are so loved and missed.
You would've hated the service for you. Taps played. They did a gun salute. All of us were a fucking mess. Dad cried...so if that doesn't give you an order of magnitude for the grief, nothing can.
The hearse rolling up with the American flag draped over the () inside was like a punch in the face...and then it just got worse from there. I wish you could have seen it, only to know what a perfect place you had in all of our lives, and the whole that is there in the wake of your absence.
Calvin was there, little turd. You would've been so annoyed. People showed up for you though, because you mattered to all of us. Uncle Greg sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
I put up this photo of you in the water from our trip to Santa Monica.
It is a screenshot from the video I took for the girls. I'm glad I have it. I listen to it so I can hear your voice talking to Dad. Then I wonder how the fuck this all happened.
I made the programs for your service. The same night I was making everything for Emma's birthday. Is that fucked up I wanted you there to read it? What kind of impossible thought is that? I wanted the people at your service to be reminded how wonderful you were and remember you for that. Plus, you're a writer. How the hell can I do justice with words for a writers life...especially when it is as extraordinarily unique as yours?
Mom was a dumpster fire shit show. If you were alive, you would've climbed into the coffin just to get the fuck away from her.
Mom was a dumpster fire shit show. If you were alive, you would've climbed into the coffin just to get the fuck away from her.
Your crew from Aftermath felt the loss - they know how you had fought for them and protected them, they were so sweet to all of us.
I made this and printed it as a giant poster at the service. You would've hated that it was shaped like a heart.
Men who served with you flew out to the service. John and Josh. Josh felt it like I hadn't seen on anyone else. He said the Phil Collins song that you guys would play before your missions was playing on the radio as he was driving over. We were singing it for a second, and I was thinking about how you told me that song didn't get played the day you guys got hit with the grenade. Fuck. It was nice to talk with him and feel connected to that part of your life that I had heard from you, but to hear it from their perspective was comforting to hear how they admired and liked you. Other guys who couldn't make it sent stories about you and photos that we had never seen. This is Dad's new favorite photo
My mind doesn't have a firm grip of heaven. I know God is there. I know you are there. I don't know anything else. Can I still pray for you? Do you see us down here? Are you okay?
I wonder if before you crossed over you saw your life flash before your eyes, and I wonder if you saw it...if you felt comforted, or loved in that moment. I'm sorry I couldn't find you in time. Dad, Donald and I were looking for you and I'm sorry we couldn't find you and pull you back from the deep.
You are so loved, my beloved brother.
Death only hurts the living. I know you never would want any of us to feel this. To cling to your flannel shirt or anything like that. But we do. We all do in our own way.
I hope heaven is where you have found your peace. I love you.
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Ellie Belle's Birth Story
Initially I didn't intend to post this and only typed it up as a way to organize my thoughts before writing them in a journal that I keep for her, but when I was pregnant I loved reading birth stories so I decided to share it.
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It's been almost three years since my first baby girl was born - the days leading up to her birth were the most emotionally and physically exhausting days I had ever experienced.
A week overdue, I was induced at 1am on Thursday. Even though I had prepared in every way that I could, my body didn't feel ready.
That night the hurry up offense of the Bronco's Thursday night football was on pace with my contractions as I bounced on a birthing ball. As contractions intensified, Ellie's heart rate began dropping with the contractions. A c-section was threatened, so I got the epidural; I did not want to risk being under general anesthesia if an emergency c-section was needed.
The nurses began to troubleshoot, try different methods to keep her heart rate up during the contractions to avoid a c-section, it would work for a while, then her heart rate would drop again, and a c-section would again be threatened. This cycle continued every few hours.
Later that evening during a particularly challenging contraction the night nurse leaned over the bed and pushed a button, seconds later we were surrounded by a flurry of nurses and I had an oxygen mask over my face. They worked furiously, prodding and moving me as if I were a rag doll and adjusting every machine in the vicinity. No one said a word to me, and when they spoke to each other it sounded like a foreign language.
I prayed. I begged God to let me have my baby girl. I thought of all the spinach I ate during my pregnancy. So much damn spinach. I felt helpless. I had done everything I knew to do to keep her safe, my heart pleaded "God please let me keep her, please". All the preparation, birthing classes, prenatal yoga...that damn spinach and there was nothing I could do to help her.
An eternity passed. All but one nurse left and she removed the oxygen mask off of my face. I looked behind me to examine the button she had pushed - an ominous bright red button - no wonder no one said anything to me. Across the room my husband just stared at the bed in stunned silence.
It happened again a few hours later.
Midnight rolled around and I fell asleep. I woke up around 1am to see the night nurse drinking her coffee as she sat by my bed. She had not come across kind, but here she was on her coffee break watching over me and my little girl.
She started talking to me about her kids. "Teenagers" she said as shook her head at their stupidity. I was comforted. God let her keep her kids, they grew up to be crazy teenagers, maybe He would do the same for me.
I don't remember all the things she said, I know she never told me things were going to be fine or that I was doing great or that it was going to get better. She knew I was in pain, she knew I was terrified and she brilliantly talked about the most ordinary things in life and I fell back to sleep.
I woke up and saw the morning nurse from the day before staring at me, at what felt like six inches from my face. My mind told me she was an angel. She didn't mind that my daughter was feisty, "still in there eh? I'll tease her out. You don't need a c-section, I'll tease her right out of there, I like the difficult ones."
I loved her for saying that.
She left to meet with her other patients. I began shaking uncontrollably. My husband called the nurse in and as she began checking the various monitors he stared at me, wanting to help but feeling like there was nothing he could do. At some point they put an oxygen mask on me and I started pushing, as the nurse was coaching me I remember thinking that pushing through the contractions was easier than trying to breathe through them and that maybe I should've just started pushing a day ago.
The nurse left to get the doctor. Our OB office had several docs, throughout my pregnancy they encouraged me to have appointments with each of them since it is a crapshoot who will be there on delivery day. A doctor I was fond of walked in with a resident I had never met, the doctor was going to let her do the catching. (I was so glad I wasn't stuck on any one particular doctor, because here was this kid I had never met grabbing her catchers mit, snapping her bubble gum like "let me at it coach".)
Fine. Batters up kid, here we go.
The nurse talked me through a few pushes. Head, shoulders, elbow...here she is! As the kid resident brought her up to my chest the baby's motion was stopped by her cord and as she slipped from the doctor's hands, she fell right into mine. I held her on my belly. She cried. That cry released a tension valve in the room - a collective sigh of relief. They put an oxygen mask near her face. I stared at her - she was purple. A tiny purple human with jet black hair and an oxygen mask. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Everything changed that day and I am so thankful.
A few side comments:
A Short Umbilical Cord
We were told later that Elizabeth had a short umbilical cord which was why she was purple, was probably why she had decel(erations) in her heartbeat (which is why the red button kept being pressed and a c-section was considered) as I was going through labor, and also why she slipped from the doctor's hands.
L&D Nurses
The nurses were the most incredible women to have advocating, troubleshooting and guiding us through the birth journey. Thank you to all labor and delivery nurses, you are incredible.
The Birth Plan
I didn't make a birth plan. I had talked to my husband about an ideal scenario of no drugs and pushing her out. I told the nurses that my birth plan was to get her out safely, whatever that would mean. I had read and heard a lot of women talking about childbirth like an experience - the kind you would find at Disneyland, or at a spa, where they would go into it with expectations, ideas about how they wanted the experience to make them feel (I want to go Disneyland and feel happy, go the spa and feel relaxed, go through childbirth and feel...) and I thought it seemed incredibly selfish and shortsighted. Selfish because childbirth isn't just about the woman and the experience for her. Shortsighted because the birth, even if it is or feels long, is such a short amount of time in the big picture. The perfect playlist, birth plan, hospital bag and doctor are just a blip in the radar. Even the first month, which seems like such a triumph, is just a blip.
I say that for anyone reading this that is pregnant and thinking about what labor will look like. It will be different than anything you read or heard about. It will be worse and it will be better, all at the same time. The birth is the easy part. The healing afterwards, the changes you will endure the first several months are far more challenging, so please don't set yourself up for expectations about a birth "experience", set your sights on a healthy baby and a good attitude. When you get to the hospital, be nice to your nurses and be nice to your husband. When you get home, be present, give yourself grace and for heaven's sake sleep when the baby sleeps.
One year old
Two years old
Three years old
Our Ellie Belle is incredibly strong-willed and sensitive. She is brilliant and funny. She is wild and curious yet gentle and shy. From the day she was born she has been a powerful little force, shifting the entire orbit of my life. I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember, she made me "mom" and I can't thank God enough for letting me have my baby girl, she is an incredible blessing.
Say your prayers and eat your spinach ladies. God is good.
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It's been almost three years since my first baby girl was born - the days leading up to her birth were the most emotionally and physically exhausting days I had ever experienced.
A week overdue, I was induced at 1am on Thursday. Even though I had prepared in every way that I could, my body didn't feel ready.
That night the hurry up offense of the Bronco's Thursday night football was on pace with my contractions as I bounced on a birthing ball. As contractions intensified, Ellie's heart rate began dropping with the contractions. A c-section was threatened, so I got the epidural; I did not want to risk being under general anesthesia if an emergency c-section was needed.
The nurses began to troubleshoot, try different methods to keep her heart rate up during the contractions to avoid a c-section, it would work for a while, then her heart rate would drop again, and a c-section would again be threatened. This cycle continued every few hours.
Later that evening during a particularly challenging contraction the night nurse leaned over the bed and pushed a button, seconds later we were surrounded by a flurry of nurses and I had an oxygen mask over my face. They worked furiously, prodding and moving me as if I were a rag doll and adjusting every machine in the vicinity. No one said a word to me, and when they spoke to each other it sounded like a foreign language.
I prayed. I begged God to let me have my baby girl. I thought of all the spinach I ate during my pregnancy. So much damn spinach. I felt helpless. I had done everything I knew to do to keep her safe, my heart pleaded "God please let me keep her, please". All the preparation, birthing classes, prenatal yoga...that damn spinach and there was nothing I could do to help her.
An eternity passed. All but one nurse left and she removed the oxygen mask off of my face. I looked behind me to examine the button she had pushed - an ominous bright red button - no wonder no one said anything to me. Across the room my husband just stared at the bed in stunned silence.
It happened again a few hours later.
Midnight rolled around and I fell asleep. I woke up around 1am to see the night nurse drinking her coffee as she sat by my bed. She had not come across kind, but here she was on her coffee break watching over me and my little girl.
She started talking to me about her kids. "Teenagers" she said as shook her head at their stupidity. I was comforted. God let her keep her kids, they grew up to be crazy teenagers, maybe He would do the same for me.
I don't remember all the things she said, I know she never told me things were going to be fine or that I was doing great or that it was going to get better. She knew I was in pain, she knew I was terrified and she brilliantly talked about the most ordinary things in life and I fell back to sleep.
I woke up and saw the morning nurse from the day before staring at me, at what felt like six inches from my face. My mind told me she was an angel. She didn't mind that my daughter was feisty, "still in there eh? I'll tease her out. You don't need a c-section, I'll tease her right out of there, I like the difficult ones."
I loved her for saying that.
She left to meet with her other patients. I began shaking uncontrollably. My husband called the nurse in and as she began checking the various monitors he stared at me, wanting to help but feeling like there was nothing he could do. At some point they put an oxygen mask on me and I started pushing, as the nurse was coaching me I remember thinking that pushing through the contractions was easier than trying to breathe through them and that maybe I should've just started pushing a day ago.
The nurse left to get the doctor. Our OB office had several docs, throughout my pregnancy they encouraged me to have appointments with each of them since it is a crapshoot who will be there on delivery day. A doctor I was fond of walked in with a resident I had never met, the doctor was going to let her do the catching. (I was so glad I wasn't stuck on any one particular doctor, because here was this kid I had never met grabbing her catchers mit, snapping her bubble gum like "let me at it coach".)
Fine. Batters up kid, here we go.
The nurse talked me through a few pushes. Head, shoulders, elbow...here she is! As the kid resident brought her up to my chest the baby's motion was stopped by her cord and as she slipped from the doctor's hands, she fell right into mine. I held her on my belly. She cried. That cry released a tension valve in the room - a collective sigh of relief. They put an oxygen mask near her face. I stared at her - she was purple. A tiny purple human with jet black hair and an oxygen mask. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Everything changed that day and I am so thankful.
A few side comments:
A Short Umbilical Cord
We were told later that Elizabeth had a short umbilical cord which was why she was purple, was probably why she had decel(erations) in her heartbeat (which is why the red button kept being pressed and a c-section was considered) as I was going through labor, and also why she slipped from the doctor's hands.
L&D Nurses
The nurses were the most incredible women to have advocating, troubleshooting and guiding us through the birth journey. Thank you to all labor and delivery nurses, you are incredible.
The Birth Plan
I didn't make a birth plan. I had talked to my husband about an ideal scenario of no drugs and pushing her out. I told the nurses that my birth plan was to get her out safely, whatever that would mean. I had read and heard a lot of women talking about childbirth like an experience - the kind you would find at Disneyland, or at a spa, where they would go into it with expectations, ideas about how they wanted the experience to make them feel (I want to go Disneyland and feel happy, go the spa and feel relaxed, go through childbirth and feel...) and I thought it seemed incredibly selfish and shortsighted. Selfish because childbirth isn't just about the woman and the experience for her. Shortsighted because the birth, even if it is or feels long, is such a short amount of time in the big picture. The perfect playlist, birth plan, hospital bag and doctor are just a blip in the radar. Even the first month, which seems like such a triumph, is just a blip.
I say that for anyone reading this that is pregnant and thinking about what labor will look like. It will be different than anything you read or heard about. It will be worse and it will be better, all at the same time. The birth is the easy part. The healing afterwards, the changes you will endure the first several months are far more challenging, so please don't set yourself up for expectations about a birth "experience", set your sights on a healthy baby and a good attitude. When you get to the hospital, be nice to your nurses and be nice to your husband. When you get home, be present, give yourself grace and for heaven's sake sleep when the baby sleeps.
Our first picture as a family
One Month Old
Three months old
Two years old
Our Ellie Belle is incredibly strong-willed and sensitive. She is brilliant and funny. She is wild and curious yet gentle and shy. From the day she was born she has been a powerful little force, shifting the entire orbit of my life. I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember, she made me "mom" and I can't thank God enough for letting me have my baby girl, she is an incredible blessing.
Say your prayers and eat your spinach ladies. God is good.
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Three Steps to Becoming Your Own Tech Support
1. "Did you try turning it off and turning it back on again?"
This is THE go to quote and is ALWAYS step #1, because it almost always works.
No one is really sure why, maybe it is because way deep inside the device some 1's and 0's got flipped around, who knows. But regardless, removing power from the device and then turning it back on is step numero uno.
This step includes powering down, removing the battery/batteries or unplugging it completely. It is important to do this because many times there are capacitors that can retain charge, and they need to fully discharge, and cannot do so unless power is completely removed.
2. RTFM
This is an acronym that hackers use ALOT. It means "Read The F*ing Manual".
Yes, that. That boring thing that comes with your device, read that.
Think of the manual as a map. If you wouldn't start a trip without checking out a map to figure out how to get where you want to go, why would you start troubleshooting without consulting the device's "map"?
Channel your inner hacker. Grab a Mountain Dew and RTFM.
3. Take notes as you try things.
If restarting it has not worked, and you have read the manual and have yet to figure it out, it is time to check out some online resources.
The trick here is to keep track of the different things you're trying as you troubleshoot. Not only will this keep you from changing something that shouldn't get changed (i.e. forgetting to switch a setting back to what it was) but it will also help you more quickly navigate the online resources you are searching through (i.e. write down keywords you find people using) and that will ultimately help you figure it out.
If you still can't figure it out and do call tech support, you can relay your notes to the tech so they know what you tried that did not work, and they can continue troubleshooting with you. This also ensures that the time you spent troubleshooting is not wasted.
Today tech is everywhere. It is untenable to say things like "I'm just not tech savvy" in the workplace or at home.
You are tech savvy, you just don't know it yet.
The next time something breaks, get excited, because it is your time to shine! Put on your best customer service voice and be the tech support you've always needed. I believe in you!
101011101,
D & H
This is THE go to quote and is ALWAYS step #1, because it almost always works.
No one is really sure why, maybe it is because way deep inside the device some 1's and 0's got flipped around, who knows. But regardless, removing power from the device and then turning it back on is step numero uno.
This step includes powering down, removing the battery/batteries or unplugging it completely. It is important to do this because many times there are capacitors that can retain charge, and they need to fully discharge, and cannot do so unless power is completely removed.
2. RTFM
This is an acronym that hackers use ALOT. It means "Read The F*ing Manual".
Yes, that. That boring thing that comes with your device, read that.
Think of the manual as a map. If you wouldn't start a trip without checking out a map to figure out how to get where you want to go, why would you start troubleshooting without consulting the device's "map"?
Channel your inner hacker. Grab a Mountain Dew and RTFM.
3. Take notes as you try things.
If restarting it has not worked, and you have read the manual and have yet to figure it out, it is time to check out some online resources.
The trick here is to keep track of the different things you're trying as you troubleshoot. Not only will this keep you from changing something that shouldn't get changed (i.e. forgetting to switch a setting back to what it was) but it will also help you more quickly navigate the online resources you are searching through (i.e. write down keywords you find people using) and that will ultimately help you figure it out.
If you still can't figure it out and do call tech support, you can relay your notes to the tech so they know what you tried that did not work, and they can continue troubleshooting with you. This also ensures that the time you spent troubleshooting is not wasted.
Today tech is everywhere. It is untenable to say things like "I'm just not tech savvy" in the workplace or at home.
You are tech savvy, you just don't know it yet.
The next time something breaks, get excited, because it is your time to shine! Put on your best customer service voice and be the tech support you've always needed. I believe in you!
101011101,
D & H
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
"Your Love Defends Me"
At the beginning of the year as I was praying for my family the song "Your love defends me" by Matt Maher kept playing in my head.
Quick rewind: I was not praying for my family because I'm holy. I was praying for them because I'm a bit of a control freak.
How so? Well, I want my kids to be safe because I protect them. I want my marriage to be good because I work at it. I want my family to be cared for because I do it. But that isn't how life works and God operates, is it? Life happens. Shit happens! God is working regardless.
On some level, I recognize that I am not in control of all those things, so I repine for a bit, then I pray. Super holy, I know. So there I was, praying for more control, and hearing the words "your love defends me", when suddenly it was right in front of me, moments when I looked back and saw that God had defended me, defended my kids, my marriage...my family.
I didn't know what to do with that. I want to be loved because I am worthy. I want things to work because I put in the work.
But nope, there I was, a person that can't ask for help from anyone, realizing what God was doing for me, without me even so much as asking.
Even when I didn't even see it at the time, and even when I was bullheaded enough to think I did it. He was my defender.
What can I do with that?
I think what I am supposed to do is give God what is His already. The burdens on us caregivers and providers are heavy, and at times it can be difficult to see through the challenges we face to not only recognize that it is beyond our control but recognize who does and should have the control. As they say, let go and let God.
He has been and still is defending us.
What I can do is trust His plan, have faith in what He is doing and embrace the joyful things that he put in my life.
I encourage you to stop today and think about how God has defended you. Have a moment of joy recognizing that the person who knows you best, loves you the most. You're not in control, but rejoice, because the person who is in control infinitely loves and defends you.
Oh joy!
~D&H
Quick rewind: I was not praying for my family because I'm holy. I was praying for them because I'm a bit of a control freak.
How so? Well, I want my kids to be safe because I protect them. I want my marriage to be good because I work at it. I want my family to be cared for because I do it. But that isn't how life works and God operates, is it? Life happens. Shit happens! God is working regardless.
On some level, I recognize that I am not in control of all those things, so I repine for a bit, then I pray. Super holy, I know. So there I was, praying for more control, and hearing the words "your love defends me", when suddenly it was right in front of me, moments when I looked back and saw that God had defended me, defended my kids, my marriage...my family.
I didn't know what to do with that. I want to be loved because I am worthy. I want things to work because I put in the work.
But nope, there I was, a person that can't ask for help from anyone, realizing what God was doing for me, without me even so much as asking.
Even when I didn't even see it at the time, and even when I was bullheaded enough to think I did it. He was my defender.
What can I do with that?
I think what I am supposed to do is give God what is His already. The burdens on us caregivers and providers are heavy, and at times it can be difficult to see through the challenges we face to not only recognize that it is beyond our control but recognize who does and should have the control. As they say, let go and let God.
He has been and still is defending us.
What I can do is trust His plan, have faith in what He is doing and embrace the joyful things that he put in my life.
I encourage you to stop today and think about how God has defended you. Have a moment of joy recognizing that the person who knows you best, loves you the most. You're not in control, but rejoice, because the person who is in control infinitely loves and defends you.
Oh joy!
~D&H
Monday, January 7, 2019
Parenting One-Liners: On Manners
I'm always looking to expand my "parenting one-liners" vocabulary and as we are working on manners with my three year old, this has been my go-to for when she asks for something without being polite.
"Is there a better way you could ask me that?"
I like it because it is open-ended, not demanding and it doesn't just force a quick "please" out of her but rather prompts her to politely rephrase her question.
Would love your comments below if you have any one-liners that help teach manners to your little ones!
~D&H
"Is there a better way you could ask me that?"
I like it because it is open-ended, not demanding and it doesn't just force a quick "please" out of her but rather prompts her to politely rephrase her question.
Would love your comments below if you have any one-liners that help teach manners to your little ones!
~D&H
Sunday, December 30, 2018
In my weakness...
He is strong.
2 Corinthians 12:9-11 (NIV)
9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.Galatians 6:9 (NIV)
9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.Isaiah 41:10 (NIV)
10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.Romans 5:2-4 (NIV)
2 through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we[a] boast in the hope of the glory of God. 3 Not only so, but we[b] also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope.
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