No Coincidences

Tag: aunt

  • Laura

    Laura

    Tomorrow is the three-year anniversary of my Aunt Laura passing away.  Laura was an inspiration to everyone she met.  She had a profound impact on my life.

    I want to share a little about her and why she was so special.

    Laura was diagnosed with cancer when I was younger.  As long as I can remember, Laura had cancer.  When I first found out, it was scary, but I was young and didn’t understand.  When Laura was still there year after year I really didn’t understand.  What was so scary?  She clearly wasn’t going anywhere, she was as healthy as ever.  I’m pretty sure within a year of her first being diagnosed my next memory of Laura was her, my mom, and another aunt going on a sling shot carnival ride.  I remember thinking, “clearly she’s ok.”

    It wasn’t until I was older that I learned and better understood what Laura went through for many years.  She was diagnosed with cancer at a young age, I believe she was 28.  She wasn’t expected to live too long.  It’s amazing to think that I’m 30 now.  Two years older than she was when she was told she wouldn’t have much longer to live.  I feel invincible every day.  Death is not something that crosses my mind (see Facing Death for the exception to the rule).  The thought of truly coming to terms with my mortality tomorrow is daunting.

    Cancer made Laura live life with a fervor that was powerful to witness.  She lived every moment to its fullest.  She went to school to get (more) degrees, she travelled, she wrote, she served.  She spent every moment in the most worthwhile way.

    When I would visit her, I would want to relax, watch movies, read.  She was a big fan of reading, but relaxing, watching movies?  Not going to happen.  I’ll share a story I told at her funeral. 

    It was 2011 and I was visiting Utah.  I was staying with Laura and my Uncle Jon for a few days.  See You Sent a Dog to Comfort a Boy and Jonah and the Whale posts for more details on this all-important trip in my life.  Laura used a pass she had for me to do a free skiing class.  I had never been on snow with a board or skis in any capacity.  After the class we were able to go up the mountain.  Remember, this is my first time ever on skis.  We’re going up and I’m seeing signs about diamonds and circles and squares.  I don’t know what it all means.  Laura explains Black Diamonds are the hardest.  We’re heading towards a Black Diamond.  I don’t even know how to get off a ski lift.

    Garrick and Laura skiing

    I voiced some concern about this, and she told me to quit worrying, I’d be fine.  So, my first time ever on a mountain and I’m doing Black Diamonds.  How could I possibly argue?  Here’s my aunt in her 40’s daring me to say something so she could call me all sorts of wimpy and scared.

    We started down the mountain and I was having a rough go.  I was up and down constantly.  I was spending more time on my back than on my skis.  I hadn’t mastered stopping yet so whenever I gained speed I would fall to keep from losing control.  Laura, meanwhile, was the epitome of consistency.  Left to right… left to right… slow and steady.  She’d get way ahead of me then stop and watch me clumsily fall down the mountain. 

    When we finished, I was exhilarated.  It was the most fun I’d ever had.  I loved the mountain.  We were driving home and I called my mom.  I excitedly told her about the day.  When I mentioned Laura and I went down the mountain together she yelled over the speaker, “Moofy you what?!?!”  Moofy was Laura’s nickname.  I learned that Laura had recently had pelvic surgery on her pelvic bone that had shattered.  I don’t think she was supposed to leave the house.  Her consistent nature down the mountain was partly to protect her frail bones from any potential impact from falling.  In fact, if she fell, she likely would have broken multiple bones.

    I learned something that day that I’ll never forget.  Laura was consistent, smooth, never wavering.  She was steadfast until the end.  She was always an example of strength and perseverance.  They were qualities I admired in her.  The other thing I learned was that Aunt Laura was never going to let anything slow her down.  She didn’t care if she was supposed to stay in bed, she wanted to ski with her nephew.  No wonder she had no sympathy for my worry about Black Diamonds.  I was young, healthy, the worst that was going to happen to me was a sore backside by the end.  She had the real possibility of a shattered bone with any fall.  What did I have to worry about?

    That is one of my fondest memories.  Laura taught me so much and I’m forever grateful for the example she was to me.  It brings me so much comfort to know she’s now moved on from my angel here on earth to my guardian angel in heaven.  I know she’s very busy up there because someone with her will, faith, and drive is being put to work by Heavenly Father.  But, in times when I’m in the most need, I will pray for Heavenly Father to spare her for a brief moment to be with and comfort me.  When I make this request, it warms my heart to know she’s quickly coming to my side.  I am excited to one day see her again and thank her for all she did for me here. 

    Love you, Aunt Laura.

    Rest in peace doesn’t work for you so instead I’ll say, keep busy, and I’ll see you soon.

  • Ivy’s First 48 Hours

    Ivy’s First 48 Hours

    The first 48 hours, it turns out, is not just a homicide drama on television or the most important time after a homicide, it’s also an important time after the birth of a newborn.

    The first 24 hours in the hospital went amazing.  There’s no better word than amazing.  Ivy slept the whole time.  Beth would have to wake her to eat.  She would eat and immediately go back to sleep.  We were warned of the calm before the storm.

    Nurses would come in and do this test or that.  She cried once when I was holding her for like 5 seconds.  She didn’t cry at all during her first bath.  She looked like she was enjoying a spa day.

    When another nurse pricked her foot for blood I asked if babies usually cried during that.  She said, “well, I gave her sugar water.”  I don’t know what that means but maybe we should be keeping sugar water on hand.  What I do know is there was no crying while at the hospital after her initial couple hours coming into the world.

    We brought her home around 4:30pm 12/5/20.  Becky (mother-in-law) and Jane (new aunt) were at the condo.  Apparently Bengie was disturbed by how we left the previous morning.  He had been acting strange while we were away and licked us even crazier than usual when we got home.  He didn’t seem to notice the new addition.  Yet.

    Becky made dinner.  Jane held Ivy.  Keith (father-in law) came over after his shift at the hospital.  Everyone expressed joy at a newborn.

    The first night was interesting.  While I think she was still pretty well behaved, it’s crazy how small interruptions to sleep can be completely disorienting. 

    We went to sleep around midnight.  Mistake number one.  I’ve been told this by many people, but I think I’ll have to learn firsthand.  Really – take sleep whenever it’s available.  Ivy and I were watching ASU football until 11:30pm.  Beth fed her and put her down to sleep around that time.

    At 2:00am Ivy started crying.  I’ll do my best to replay the events of the night, but Beth and I had great difficulty piecing events together in the morning. 

    I believe Beth tried to feed her, but she wasn’t really eating.  Cluster-feeding?  I don’t know. 

    *Beth update when reading this – she did feed her before I woke up at 2:00am, we think?

    Things that happened, order unknown:

    Beth made a bottle. Beth passed a blood clot. She was upset and scared and talked to her mom. Determined it was ok unless other symptoms/things happened. Beth was upset and having a hard time. I swapped spots with her and laid by Ivy’s bed, which for the first couple months (I think?) will be lying next to our bed. I fed Ivy half of the bottle Beth prepared.

    Ivy was somewhat fussy and always on the verge of crying.  Between 2am and 4am I realized she had a very messy diaper.  Explained the fussy.  I changed Ivy in the other room and laid her back down in her bed.  She was much better.  I’m not sure if Beth was completely sleeping during this time.  I think she was kind of in and out of it.  She was exhausted. 

    I laid with my hand on Ivy or helping to keep her pacifier in which seemed to settle her down.  I think I slept around 4am.  Again, not sure how things transpired, but at some point I woke up because Ivy was fussing.  Looked like she was hungry.  I talked to Beth around 5am (maybe?) about Ivy being hungry.  I think at some point Beth turned the hot air on in the room.  It had gotten cold in the room.  I could have sworn I passed Ivy to Beth around 5am to feed but in the morning neither of us could recall if that actually happened.  Funny, but being serious. 

    At some point I was really hot, and Ivy was fine.  She was sleeping like a, you guessed it, baby.  Really, she was sleeping well.  Interesting we use that phrase to indicate deep sleep when in reality sleeping like a baby is more like up every 90 minutes wanting some attention.  The living room was cooler, so I curled up on the couch and slept there.  Again, at some point (8am?) I woke up to the loud carbon monoxide alarm.  It beeped loud, 3 times.  I saw Beth coming from the kitchen.  I couldn’t fathom why she would make 3 loud beeps happen.  She seemed in a haze.  She ignored the loud beeping.  That confused me more.  I learned Bengie was sleeping on my legs.  His number one fear is loud beeps.  He jumped and ran to the bedroom, under the bed, tried to jump on the bed but Ivy’s bassinette was in the way.  He ran back and jumped on me.  He repeated this 3 times.  I held and pet him and he was shaking like crazy.  When I stopped petting, he ran to the bedroom, found his way onto the bed, and burrowed into the blankets.

    The new addition was proving to be a major interruption to his routine, peace, and quiet.

    **Beth addition number two – “you must have been in a haze too, when the beep went off, I yelled ‘oh –.’” (followed by a bad word).

    I am not denying any sort of hazy phase.  I was a cloud of confusion.

    I guess the morning had started.

    Ivy was peaceful as could be, as far as I could tell.  She’s been an angel ever since.  While writing this she was curled up on my legs/lap in front of me.  Already learning to multi-task. Her pacifier just fell out.  She likes her pacifier. 

    I still got to meditate that first day.  That was big.

    Becky came by and made some food.  I decided to fast in gratitude to Heavenly Father for all this.

    Beth proofread this and told me to insert “I was a Rockstar” talking about myself.  That’s a bit much.  Beth’s done all the hard work and is completely exhausted.  I’ve gotten to sleep next to Ivy and take care of the most important person in the world.  And she’s so cute.  And when I sleep, I get to put my hand on her and be with her. 

    Good deal.  I’ll take it.

    Ivy may be the “Coo Monster.”  She’s constantly coo-ing.  It’s heart-melting.  The cutest little hums and noises.  I love her very much.  It’s amazing how much I like caring for her.  It’s crazy how exhausted I can be already and yet how happy.

    Ivy went on a short walk in her stroller today.

    She loves her swing.

    She loves if I gently tickle her head or face with my fingers.  Her eyes will instantly flutter closed.

    Bengie and Ivy

    I love her.