A Birthday, Surgery Day & Other Days Worth Noting

I often write long blog posts in my head and when I actually sit down to type them, they disappear. Maybe it's because I create the posts in my head and then try to write about them a month later. I think I'll put in a request for whomever designs my tombstone--please engrave "Better late than never" on my side of the marker.

Emma turned 12 last month. I was expecting 13 to be the hard year to accept, but 12 hit me like a mack truck. I give you Exhibit's A,B, and C:





Heaven have mercy on her Dad and I when the 6th grade dance hit. Emma had been looking online for a new dress. I nearly fainted when I noticed all the sites were junior's stores instead of Justice. I told her to look at girls section on Kohl's.com, which she did, then politely shook her head no at every dress I suggested. The time had come for me to get a grip on reality so we went shopping...in the junior's. I will admit that we had alot of fun, but it was tough trying not to tear up every time she tried a new dress on. Needless to say, Ej had a blast at the dance, and she looked beautiful, as usual. Steve couldn't wait for her to get home and put her cleats back on!

A couple days later, Emma celebrated her actual b-day. She was such a great sport to wake up at 6:30am so we could all get ready for the Ogden Marathon. First thing in the morning, we gave her tickets to the Sept. Taylor Swift concert, and then we all headed off for the big run. Ej didn't even complain that she spent most of her birthday watching loved ones jog across the finish line--she has a huge heart. That night, she had friends over for Bieber cake, s'mores, and a movie in the backyard.



Two weeks after Emma turned 12, she had her first surgery (let's hope it's her only surgery.)
Ej's had extreme pain in her foot for several months. After therapy at home, expensive shoes, and orthotics didn't work, we determined she needed to have minor, outpatient surgery to lengthen and stretch her right calf muscle. Emma was a little scared before the procedure, but she braved it like getting one high n tight at the plate. She might punch me for posting this pre-op photo but it's too cute to leave out.

She spent a full week recovering in her elevated boot, on the couch. You can see that her main nurse is not only furry but super helpful. Coot made sure she was comfortable the whole time.

And here we have her one inch incision that's healing up rather nicely:

Emma's looking forward to coming off the IR in 2 to 3 more weeks. She's decided that cheerleading on the sidelines is NOT for her. You can only imagine how much this upsets her father.

So that's what happens when you turn 12 at barbie brick. Happy late birthday post to our always so sweet and gorgeous Emma Jade!

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P.S. Happy Birthday to T today also! It was hard not writing about him and our weekend of remembrance but I wanted the focus to be on Ej since she had alot happen this past month and she's constantly sharing the spotlight with others. As always, we love and miss T more than we can express.

Truth Is...

I suck at blogging, especially when my life consists of running from one game to another. It's just how I like it. Steve's coaching Brooks' AND Ej's teams. Don't be dismayed, it's just how he likes it too.

Two bad things for my kids:
1. They play better when I don't have a camera in my hands.
2. Their mom is superstitious.

But the camera doesn't have dust on it yet. I walked outside to look at my tulips the other day and I saw Emma pitching to Gav. Her goal was to throw 100 pitches a day. It did my heart good to walk out and hear Gav yell, "67".
In the first years of our marriage, Steven and T used to spend hours throwing to each other. Probably why this nearly made me cry...

Then Gav takes a shot at pitching and the lump returns to my throat...


I swear this was just a couple years ago...



Last week...



Gav, Coop, & Emma in what seems like not that long ago...
(Brooksie doesn't arrive for another two years)

Back to the present is BT catching with Dad...


And another one that feels like yesterday...

Cousins and the ballpark make awesome memories. We're lucky because we can still appreciate the best things in life, even while it feels half-empty. Now just play ball!!!

Double Axel Roses

Sometimes I forget how much I miss hanging with my sister, Val. Last night, we went to our cousin's 40th b-day party at the ice rink. It ended up being one of those nights when you laugh so hard that later, you keep cracking up at the images you continue replaying in your mind.

We went to the party thinking we'd talk to Jimmy and catch up on lost time. Unfortunately, we don't get to see Jimmy alot. Anyway, the plan was to eat first, shoot the bull a little, and then go hit pucks at Jimmy while he tended goal. Val and I talked before the party started. Our conversation went something like this, "We won't skate. We'll chat and hang for awhile but we won't skate. We'll just watch Jimmy get plummetted for a few and then we'll go."

Next thing you know...

I'm fairly sure I looked like this...

Right before I looked like this...

If Val's trigger were a little faster on the shutter button, I could show you that I did the exact move as the pro skater in that white, sparkily number. I'm sure Val and I were wowing the spectators at the party with our one inch jumps and lightening speed spin rotations. Jimmy's son, Wyatt, skated down to us for a bit. Little Jr. highers just don't appreciate good talent these days. We tried to talk him into skating with us so we could start working on a couple's routine but he immediately went the other direction. I thought he'd change his mind when we yelled across the rink that we could win him a medal, but he picked up his skate-away pace??? I can only conclude that he didn't feel worthy to stand on the same podium as Val and I.

We did take a stab at the hockey thing. I couldn't make contact with the stick and Val's wasn't too great either so we instantly decided that hockey must be more for the agressive, outspoken type and figure skating is for the shy, sophiscated, and timid folk like us.

If you ever need a real good laugh, call my sister and have her take you for a night out...anywhere. Val can turn anything and everything into a comedyfest.

It was a good exchange for the damage and pain. This is, indeed, my knee one day after our olympic debut. One elbow and the other knee look similar but posting a photo of both knees together......well...let's just say they didn't look like knees and I didn't want my blog to get shutdown.

Same Ol', Same Ol'

I have no idea why I continue to let people in on my weakness. I should be ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated, but instead I'm going to look at it in the following positives:

I'm glad I don't have OCD. I'm even happier that Steven doesn't have OCD. I'm glad I can take a swig of that Coke Zero after I snap the photo. I'm still an okay person because I recycle and shop with reusable bags. I'm happy that I still have all the Broncos cups I hunted down after our previous game at Mile High. I'm glad my purse holds the record for most crap carried around on a single shoulder every day. I'm glad I can smile at the thought of Jeni showing Jason this picture and imagining his disgust . I'm glad the sun is shining because I know it's hitting my tulip bulbs that are showing leaves (HOORAY!) I'm grateful to the inventor of the ball point pen because heaven knows I wouldn't have the patience to dip the fountain pen in ink every five seconds to write on all those papers. Btw, the feather on the fountain pen would also drive me crazy. I'm glad the pantry is behind me so I can get sidetracked by food when I begin to dejunk the counter of interest. I'm happy to have all that scratch paper handy in case I get a phone call that requires me to quickly jot down important information, like where mini vanilla wafers are on sale. I'm glad I just wasted one minute of your time to provide you with nothing other than trite and useless information.

Team Lightening

To one seven-year-old, there is no better birthday party than that spent with a team of cousins. The creation and organization of the renowned Team Lightening came about in Grandpa's backyard a while back, as older cousins battled younger cousins in what Brooks describes as two-hand-tackle football. A meaningful definition of this football style can only be understood to the adolescent minds of Poll lineage. It has something to do with two hands when there's "alot of mud" and tackle when there's "a little or not any mud, Mom." Of course, Brooksie explains it to me like it shouldn't be that difficult to comprehend. All I know is that his perception of "a little mud" is a far cry from mine when it's time to do laundry, but back to the birthday subject I go...

Brooks could hardly wait for his Team Lightening sleepover last weekend (wakeover would be more appropriate since little sleep took place.) I decided that posting an excessive amount of pictures is better than any drawn out narrative I could provide:

Shirt making in progress:

Team Lightening shirts make you better at trampoline basketball:

LOTS of pool & MJ music...LOTS and LOTS
With lots of root beer in a bottle. Never would've guessed this would be so cool...More trampoline dunking:

B.T.

Bartender, aka Isaac:

And that, my friends, is the stuff life is made of...

We love you Brooks T.!!! Thanks for making every day worth living, seriously!

To All the Kind People Out There

I'm not going to lie, I spent most of last week in a foul, ornery place. I slept alot and didn't do much around the house. I didn't get the door when somebody knocked, and I had the ringer turned off my phones for much of the week. Did I even shower? Possibly once or twice, but sadly, I honestly can't remember because I was too busy being an ogre. Sorry if you were around for that, by the way.

Perhaps word of my cantankerism began to spread because a friend left a sweet note with cookies on my doorstep last Saturday morning. Then today, I opened my mailbox to find an unsigned, yet very thoughtful note and giftcard. The note was typed so I racked my brain trying to think of who the kind person could be. I'm grateful to say that I couldn't even narrow the possibilities down to 30. I have so many good friends, neighbors, in-laws, cousins, and family members that it could be any of you.

What I'm getting at here is THANK YOU!!! That thanks also goes to those who've sent us cards or messages filled with heartwarming words. I am certainly not deserving of the praise some messages provided, but believe me, they kept me from capsizing into that big wave of depression. The encouraging letters make it really hard to drown myself in self-pity and loss, dang it. That was a sarchastic dang, but please know my gratitude is genuine.

I am a lucky girl. I cannot begin to describe what an amazing husband I have and I mean that with every inch of my soul. He does ALOT for me, for our children, and for others in his family. I am constantly in awe of how he finds the strength and courage to not only forge through the storm, but to carry so many while he marches. Steve is truly a great man. I love him dearly.

Again, I'm sincerely thankful for your understanding, your compassion, your charity, and mostly, I'm thankful for your love and friendship.

Nothing Doing

I actually don't know why I still have a blog. I rarely update because my life is even less exciting than watching popcorn pop. Even worse is that I'm not complaining that I have nothing interesting to write about. Sure, I could use a good MB20 concert or an 8th trip to Wicked, but speaking from experience, boring isn't the worst thing to go through. Granted, Sundays without football will likely put me in a sinkhole and I'll be cursing this post like a bum without a bottle, but Spring is just around the bend. Before long, my lazy arse will reunite with metal bleachers and my ears will hear the harmony of bat pings and cleats walking on cement....aaaahh!!!

There are comforts in sounds you don't realize until customs of your past become treasured mementos, reminders of when life was good...when there was no diabetes, no cancer, and T was just a phone call away. Our biggest worry back then was how many more games Steve could throw without walking in the tying run or needing a shoulder transplant. Those were the good ol' days.

I guess the lesson is that without these days, it would've taken me longer to appreciate those days. Steve appreciates those days too, but he doesn't share my same regard for the slower schedule. Stagnancy allows him more time to dwell. Either way, we want to be done with this freezing weather. We're definitely anxious for the warmth and solace of fastpitch at the ballpark

That's My Brother

We had a great night watching videos and remembering T last night. Mandy and Gav brought their best when they found the video we thought was lost. Now I owe Gav 20 bucks which is much, much less than this masterpiece is worth.

It's actually a video of the VHS playing on our TV (I'll gladly spend the rest of my day trying to put it on a dvd.) Because both of Steve and T served missions, they didn't see each other for almost four years. Them reuniting was one of the most precious moments I've witnessed in my lifetime. I think it's only fair to share on my blog, on facebook, everywhere!

Merry Christmas Anyway

I took the term "light up my life" a little seriously this year. I never did like that song, but I figured we could use some extra cheer this season. What I cannot explain is why I spent so much time fixing up the outside when the inside has been in desperate need of cleaning and organizing for the last um...year and a half or so. Yes, that's when we moved in.

Maybe it's because no matter how hard I try or how many times I put things away, they return to the kitchen counter and table within minutes. In the past I've told people that I don't believe in magic but I'm officially recanting my statement due to the junk reappearing trick that happens in my kitchen on an hourly basis. Above is how the exterior looks and for your holiday pleasure, the interior is below.
I realize it's full of Christmas stuff, but do not be deceived, there's always a collection of this, that, and the other on there. It's awesome.

As much as I'd love to write more about my housekeeping measures, it's time to move on to something more nailbiting. I've recently become reacquainted with my good friend, mr. cough drop. It just wouldn't be Christmas without him. I'd like to thank him and his friend, the cough, for visiting me faithfully every November and December.

Of course, it's not surprising how much I think about past Novembers and Decembers now. There are so many precious memories and traditions in this time of year. They are bittersweet to remember right now but I suppose one day they will be more sweet than acrid. We have missed T painfully for six months. I try to prepare for the things we know we're going to miss before they arrive, but sometimes an emotion or a little forgotten memory springs up without notice.

Many people ask how Steve and the rest of the family are doing. It's a tough question to answer. The sadness and loss are ALWAYS there, below the surface. You never know the hour, day, or week that you're going to completely drown in it. It's not predictable or explainable. Mandy describes it perfectly as the hole. If you've lost a close person who you really, really, really love, you know that it's not just a hole in your heart, it's a hole in your entire being. The hole constantly takes your breath away, freezes your brain, stops your heart, and weighs down every organ in your body. It's so crippling that you can't believe what has happened and even after six months, you continually ask yourself if it's real. It's still hard to imagine that we don't have T, everything's so different without him, we love him so much.

Now that I've cried my eyes out, I don't know how to move onto the other things I wanted to say so I'll just end with this quote that's been on mind since I read it a month ago. It was originally attributed to Churchill but the quote police are now saying it wasn't him (too bad because it's a good one.)

"You make a living by what you get; you make a life by what you give" ~unknown

When it's all said and done, I would like to say that I gave as much love as I could, not just at Christmas but year-round. I'm still a work in progress.

Thanks to everyone for all the love you've shown us. Merry Christmas in the best way you can grab ahold of it. We love you all!

Grateful...Grateful Not...

Seems like I live in a world of "should's" that rarely turn into "did's" lately. I haven't updated my blog because I feel like I should write about what I'm grateful for since we're close to Thanksgiving now. I also feel like I should write equally about the happy and sad things we're experiencing, but when I sit down to write, the sad stuff takes over and I decide that I should not write after all. Instead of writing, I'll go public with my lists of both:

What I'm Grateful For

Good, happy children
Mint Oreos
Sweet, funny husband
Giving, loving family members
Gill, Colorado (because I can still feel my Grandpa there)
Friends who help you plant tulips in the snow because you procrastinated
Cootman
Friends who pretend to like coffee
Broncos kickin' ass and takin' names game
Insulin pumps
Ikea pillows
Antibiotics
Pink Houses
Furnaces
Mrs. Quarnberg
Cooperstown & Coolhand (Brooks would be bored out of his mind without them)
Cousins
Football
Good boss
A garage
Diet drinks

What I'm not Grateful For

Reading the article about dog fighting in LHJ
That "an eye for an eye" is no longer an acceptable form of punishment
Mint oreos
Physical pain associated with grief
Watching the love of your life experience true loss, complete heartbreak, & physical pain associated with grief (and having nothing to console such)
Cramps
Diabetes
Fat
Jewelers commercials
Early mornings
Losing Tug
Cankers
Laundry
Raiders
Chargers
People who eat just before teeth cleanings
Idiots who park in the school drop off zone every damn day

Maturity

It bugs me when 30-something year olds act like teenagers...

Time to grow up people...seriously.

New Sheriff in Town

It's been said that when you have a pet pass onto the other side, there's a possibility they can communicate to you through another animal. At this point in my life, I don't care if you call me crazy, insane, deluded, whatever, but I believe the theory. I'm not saying that Tug is trying to speak prophetics or guide me in any direction, but sometimes Coot looks at me in the just the right way and I know Tug is with me.

Cootman came to us while his family went on vacation in May. Coot was 9 months old and was on his second family, but they were also considering giving him away. He was urinating in their house, so they frequently kept him in the garage or tied him to a leash in the house. I don't fault my friend because Coot was the first dog her and her husband ever had. If you have a smaller dog, you are familiar with occasional accidents and clean-up. If you are Steven, you're not as patient about this either, but luckily you have a wife and kids that are.

Anyways, Coot being their first dog wasn't working out like they thought so we happily agreed to keep him. I swore I'd never get another pet after losing Tug. I didn't want to experience that heartache and emptiness ever again in my life, but then Tug sent us a little band-aid. Our new heart patch had the same name as our nephew Cooper, so we tweeked his name a bit (he never knew the difference) and here we have the Cootster.

He doesn't have many potty mishaps anymore and he is awesome with Emma and Brooks. He sits by Brooks every morning and gets read to, or talked to, or anything that provides attention.

He "helps" with dishes...He leaps super high for everything...

He "helps" me find stuff...

And mostly, Coot just follows me around and makes sure I'm never alone. I am someone's world again. I still kiss Tug's collar on my bedpost every night because I miss him earnestly, but when I kiss Coot on his temples, I am literally kissing Tug too. Those are the glimpses of heaven that I'm allowed several times a day and the saints know I need 'em.

Never Forget

In the midst of our recent months in hell, Trav has crossed many of our hearts and minds often. Karianne has also proven to be everything that we always knew she was. Through patience, diligence, and love, she has all the children under her roof again. I know Trav is proud of her and that his wings rest a little easier now that the girls are back in her care, with their brother, in the house that Kari & Trav put their hearts into.

When I think of Trav, I remember his gorgeous, long eyelashes. And his eyes sparkled so much that I had to use the red-eye fix on EVERY photo I ever took of him. I can also hear Trav's gentle voice, asking me how the kids are and him laughing at my sister giving him crap. My sister, Val, set Trav and Karianne up 11 years ago. Kari brought Trav on a family trip with us a little thereafter, and I still remember the way he made her laugh. We had all long gone to bed one night, but Kari and Trav remained awake, laughing for hours.

Trav always had his daughters with him too. Since Trav was Val's boss for a few years, I knew that he was a committed father who had worked hard to keep his girls after his divorce. That pretty much said it all for me.

It's been two years since we've seen this wonderful man, remarkable dad, and devoted husband. I HATE and LOATHE esophageal cancer with every inch of my heart. It may not be prejudice of who it hits, but it only takes the good ones, I swear.

We love you Trav! We miss you! We are trying to enjoy the "up's" because of you. We will never forget you Trav, ever.

Travis H. Beus, 36, passed away Wednesday, September 10, 2008, after winning a fearless battle with esophageal cancer and now he is finally home.
He was born July 9, 1972, to Keith and Linda Beus. He was raised in Warren, enjoying many years of horse racing with his parents, and playing football. He graduated form Weber High School in 1990 where he was a member of the Spiker’s Rodeo Club.
In 1993, Travis married Kellie Loveland and together they had two daughters, Ashtin (13) and Sydnee (11). They were later divorced. As a single dad, Travis willingly and lovingly raised two little girls, (one for each arm). His daughters were constantly by his side and will forever cherish their years with their daddy.
On October 6, 2000, two families became one when Travis married Karianne Carpio Valdiviezo. Along with her son, D.J. (16), they enjoyed numerous family vacations, camping, 4-wheeling, and hanging out at home watching all types of sports and car races.
Trav’s first priority was always his family; he was very involved with the kids’ schooling and activities. He was the definition of a “good guy”. He was a quiet, unassuming person who made friends easily and left a lasting impact with whomever he met. Throughout his life, Travis was positive, he had that never give up attitude and always rooted for the underdog. He touched the lives of many people; he will live on in all of us.
Travis was previously employed at Fresenius Medical and DFG, Inc., and currently worked at Hill Air Force Base.
He is survived by his wife and children, his parents, a sister, Traci (Wendell) Kenison, of Brigham City, and Grandma Henrietta Hess.
Travis was preceded in death by his grandparents, Tracy R. Hess, Henry and Wanda Beus, a brother, Corey, and a cousin, Kristie Jacobsen.
Our family wishes to thank family and friends, Dr. Vincent Hansen and his staff, the nursing staff at Salt Lake Regional Hospital, and the men and women of Hill Air Force Base who donated their annual leave. We cannot put into words the appreciation we have in our hearts and could not have made it through this last year without you.

Home Sweet Home

I must be getting older. I'm starting to look forward to sleep and delighting in the nights I get to stay home. I used to love being on the go. Having places to be made me feel important and fun. Lately, I'm happy when I look at the calendar and the day is completely blank. I secretly say a prayer to the schedule god that Steve won't want to go anywhere when he realizes we have nothing planned.

I'm not saying I don't want to be invited places or left out of things. I'm just thinking that a little simma down nah sounds relatively lovely. Maybe this is the slippery slope that leads to all social faux pas and destruction. One weekend of nothing eventful and the next thing you know, you're shopping at Wal-Mart in your pajamas.

Steve makes fun of the H-O-M-E deco I've placed on the mantle. We'll be sitting in the great room watching TV and he'll say, "Something tells me we don't just have a house...we have a home." Or out of the blue he'll ask a guest, "Are you getting an overwhelming feeling that you're at home?...We sure hope so." Thinks he's so funny, but I love being at home for so many reasons.

Hanging at home means that football has returned, and the recliner is mine every Sunday for the rest of the year! Home is where I know my kids are alright and blood sugar is stable for hours. Home stands for comfort and cuddling more with my Cootman. There really is no place like home...save The Lollipop Guild.

Hearts Amiss

I was going to try and write about something else today, but my mind keeps going to where my heart is...Steven without T.

It's been two months now. There have been many moments in the last 61 days when Steven's laugh is real and his jokes are genuine. I have seen more than flickers of happiness return to his face. We went to Steve's 20 year reunion last weekend and it was nice to see him have a good time with old friends. I am grateful to these friends for checking on him subtlety and getting him out.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that every day isn't completely full of gloom and sadness. There is light at the end of that colossal tunnel, but it's not always easy to see, especially when you're crawling to it.

We love you, T, and we miss you. Can't wait for hugs like this again, even if they're cheesy peesy.

My Own Personal Whys

Not necessarily meant to be answered, just throwing out questions I ask myself sometimes.

Why...

does Brooks walk into the room and turn on Spongebob, only to immediately stroll outside or down the stairs?

do wasps exist?

do I want a Whatchamacallit at 1am?

am I the only one in the household who puts new toilet paper rolls on the holder?

do I not like Black-eyed Peas music like 90% of Americans?

can't everyone check their noses and their children's noses before a teeth cleaning?

do I despise putting clean laundry away?

do my kids change outfits 18 times a day?

do mosquitoes love my blood?

can't some people just be happy for others who reach success, have great kids, do wonderful things, etc. without feeling jealousy or a need to compete?

can't Brooks' auto-immunity to the beta cells that make insulin just be reversed?

T? Why him?

does Coot bark more when Steven's around, the only one it bothers?

can't dogs live as long as horses?

is it hard for some people to admit they may have done wrong or caused hurt upon another? And is that really how they want to teach their children to be also?

does my husband see nothing wrong with transforming our garage into a batting cage when winter arrives?

can't I figure out how to make my blog header smaller? I feel like we're screaming HELLO READERS, WE'RE THE POLLS AND WE LOVE BALL!!!

do people, like myself, feel like they're intruding if they comment on an open blog? Every blogger knows we love positive comments from anybody and everybody.

am I starting to answer my whys?

do some heterosexuals care so much about gay marriage? Does it really destroy, damage, or physically hurt you as a human being or just your individual beliefs?

is it difficult to accept that others have different belief systems, especially beliefs that don't cause bodily harm to persons or animals?

am I singing, "What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love...?"

can't washers and dryers live as long as horses too?

am I blogging instead of clearing out & organizing the last of our moving boxes when the space they're in looks like a county dump?

did an acquaintance ask the other day if I had seen So and So's big house?

does the size of someone's house matter more than the size of their heart, how their family's doing, or the type of person they are? Really???

don't I just go to bed before my why's get too impassioned?

Good night friends...or good day, depending on what time you read this :)

Poll Holiday

The Poll holiday is something our kids look forward to every year. A couple nights before this year's "escape," we viewed some video of our first Poll vacation. T & M's kids were here with us, and we conjured up some good chuckles watching me struggle as I looked to the water from the third platform at Lava. I went back and forth for what seemed like hours, deciding if I could do it. T and Chad's Angie put me to shame when they practically ran up to the third platform and jumped without restraint. When I finally decided to hurl myself off the stupid thing, I dropped in a perfect slant, a new leaning technique I was working on for the next olympics.

As the video played on, we migrate back to the camp and see Lana and Reed in a skipping race. Then the siblings join in and compete (more like cheat) in various runoffs. We can hear everyone laughing on the video, but I'm on the couch in tears at this point. I'm wondering how we've come to this. The kids are used to my blubbering now, so we blow it off and start talking about T's family renting the teepee and knocking on our door just after midnight. Turned out that Gus-Gus and other friends of Cinderella wanted to slumber with Gav & Co. too. Thankfully we were able to fit all seven of us in the illustrious Shag-wagon, a.k.a. my parents' ancient motor home. It was a cozy fit but it gave us more reasons to laugh and whether we slept or not, we were glad to just be together period.

I didn't have time to scan photos from that trip but I wanted to post a pic of T from one of our family trips to Bear Lake in 2004. T is holding Brooks and Skyla in one of my favorite photos ever.


We have never done anything bigger than Bear Lake or Lava, but that doesn't matter to any of us. We are happy to be together and I'm ecstatic every time I manage to finagle a way out of camping, blech. We planned to stay close again this summer because we were unsure where T would be in his treatment. I don't think any of us thought he wouldn't be with us. Even if our minds told us there was a chance, our hearts pushed it away. We are literally living in the world of Inconceiveable and even though we don't want to take the new roads that go along with it, we have to. This year's new road was short. Our kind and loving neighbors let us use their pool for the entire day and we only left for dinner and potty breaks.

The kids had a ball unijumping, playing overwater football toss, and tipping the mom's over while we lounged in the pool. It was nice that we didn't have to separate like we do when we hit the big aquatic centers. We recalled some great memories and had good conversation.

Later, we had a campfire, sang early happy birthday to Luke, then Cooper and Brooks told scary stories. Some of the parents and most of the kids slept under the stars in Reed's backyard that night. We woke up to a yummy breakfast that included a combination of chefs. Our last activity was a Raptor's game with fireworks following the game. We had a pretty swell time but as time went on, the void got bigger. We talked about T and did our best at keeping our chins up. We didn't talk about our emotions but I sensed most of us were on the verge of breakdown before the ballgame started. It was alot of family time without T and we couldn't help but miss him miserably. On the way home I told Mandy that the emptiness had returned full-force and we cried a little.

Overall, it was a positive occasion but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult. We wished T were there with every moment that passed. Most of us are also now experiencing side effects because it's not easy adapting to life sans T. That being said, we had a good weekend and we were grateful to be together as a family.