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.