one year ago today

March 28, 2010 was the last time I had a coherent conversation with my mother. I was with my sister Susan in Pennsylvania; I had arrived the day prior (a Saturday) to celebrate Susan's birthday with her. We called Mom after church on Sunday, the 28th, to tell her about our fun shopping day together the day before. We told her about our birthday purchases, talked about what we were making for dinner, and what we were planning to do the next day--all of the everyday details we so enjoyed sharing. Mom said she hadn't felt like going to church that day, saying that she was just oddly tired and didn't feel well. I expressed my concern, said my usual I-Love-You goodbye, and hung up after promising to call again tomorrow.

The next morning my mother suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Later that evening I was told over the phone by her attending physician that there was nothing more that could be done to save her and that I should get home as soon as possible if I wanted to see my mother before she died. She never regained consciousness. By the time Susan and I arrived home the following day, plans had been made to move Mom to hospice, where she died two days later.

As the anniversary of my mother's death approaches, I feel anew the sharp pain of missing her steadfast physical presence in my life. I long to talk to her about all of the things we used to share, and I can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to phone heaven for a quick answer to a recipe question.

In thinking about how I want to remember or mark the anniversary of her death, I remember that Mom always thought that spending ponderous time at a graveside was rather pointless and overly-sentimental (she was not the sentimental type). So--while I do plan to visit her grave and leave flowers (despite the fact that I can hear her in my mind saying, "Oh Honey, you don't need to bother with that!") I have decided that the best way I can honor her passing is to give service. Mom was always looking for ways to serve others. Even in her later years, with failing eyesight and aching joints, she would bake treats for her neighbors and friends, and for me. She was the true embodiment of the Relief Society motto, Charity Never Faileth.

On April 1st I'll be making homemade bread, using one of my mother's favorite recipes, and delivering it to people who might need a little cheer. I love you, Mom.

excused absence

Dear Blogger,

Please excuse Denise from her lengthy blogging-world absence. She has been very busy with

and hasn't slept much, due to a lot of late-night

and had to finish the

at the last minute,

all while missing her

very much.

She has had to take a fair bit of

to keep headaches, aches and pains at bay.

She'll resume her (somewhat) regular posting once she finishes the

and gets

and

organized again.

Sincerely,

If the shoe fits, buy it in every color

12 on the 12th (on the 15th)

1. Daily morning dose of vitamins--breakfast of champions
2. Church satellite broadcast/leadership training meeting
3. Snack stash in high school's costume room always includes circus peanuts
4. Rolling z-racks in costume room
5. Double-checking leading lady's costume chart
6. Old Faithful
7. Sewing standbys
8. No explanation needed
9. Yards and yards and yards of fabric
10. Another drink, please
11. How many peasant blouses do we need?
12. BBC's Lark Rise to Candleford, Season 2 (thanks, Michelle, for introducing me to this one!)

And thanks to Charlotte for making my grid!

the holidays: illustrated and annotated CliffNotes edition

Felt gratitude to celebrate Thanksgiving with close friends and niece Claire, since family was more sparse than usual. Contrary to premonition of “lame” Thanksgiving, it was not.


Tortured myself perusing “Handmade Holiday” blogs (see Narrating Life: Here We Go and Call Me Badger), remembering a time when I used to do that sort of thing and feeling left out because I’m in a different place now. Managed to make one homemade gift: a scrapbook of memorabilia from my mother’s funeral, for my dad.

Started new part-time job for the City of Wheat Ridge in the Purchasing Department. Lament that shoe shopping is not on my list of purchasing responsibilities, but rejoice in the direct deposit made to my account every two weeks.

Made cinnamon rolls, butterscotch pecan rolls, sugar cookies, pies, toffee pretzels and the best roasted turkey of my lifetime. Hosted Donut Night for John’s choir friends. Rejoice that I have overcome PTPCS: Post-Traumatic-Pie-Crust Syndrome.

Made more taffeta skirts with tulle underskirts than I care to count. (see A Square with Flair: sweat shop) Lament that I have neglected to return Miranda’s email with pattern questions (see Vogue 8315 and Butterick 5032 and I'll talk to you later, Miranda).

Nursed Sarah through tonsillectomy and recovery (see photo, A Square with Flair). Very glad to have Emily and John home as nursing assistants. Fight sadness that BYU only grants students a two-and-a-half-week Christmas vacation.

Concede that wonders never cease; enjoy reading Mark’s newest blog incarnation and enjoy his attractive layout. (see Crisis? What Crisis?) Yearn for an updated blog banner myself. Yearn to return to blogging world myself. Agonize over number of unread Google Reader subscriptions.

Enjoy all-too-quick visit from Josh and Charlotte. Still getting used to using the word “son-in-law” in conversation. Really glad they didn’t die or total their car in accident on return trip to Portland (see minutiae, road tripping ).

Celebrated two birthdays in early January: John's 17th and my Dad's 91st. Can't decide which is more unbelievable to me.

Made it through the holidays with only two bouts of major missing-my-mom grief: one the night before Thanksgiving when faced with pies to make, and the other when taking down Christmas decorations and coming across some sentimental figurines from my childhood.

Laughter returned, however, upon finding this Happy Meal gem hidden in my Christmas tree by Charlotte.

Finally finished reading Mockingjay, the third book of The Hunger Games series (see minutiae, operation superhuman reader). Wondered if Katniss Everdeen would ever emerge from catatonic state in front of her District 12 fireplace.

Stifle urge to swear while 10-year-old computer is in throes of death. Check email when I can at my dad’s house. Leap for joy when Mark orders new 21” iMac! Wonder in astonished amazement at the new computer’s unprecedented speed. Wonder how often I’ll actually get to use it with John around. . . .

Gear up for new year--2011 here I come! . . . that is, after I put away the Christmas dishes and the rest of the holiday bins. . . .

MIA?

No, I haven't gone Missing in Action or AWOL. I'm currently in Pennsylvania helping my sister Susan with her clients' Christmas set-ups, something I do every time this year--or at least have done for the past five years. No time or energy for keeping up my own blog, but I'm doing a bit of ghost-blogging for her. You can read all about our week's adventures here.

You gotta love sister time, no matter how exhausting the work!

stop this train

It's hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that nearly three weeks have passed since Charlotte's wedding day. We planned, shopped, cooked, and sewed--anticipating the event for so long (well, six months)--and suddenly it's over.

I loved every minute of Wedding Week. There is very little, if anything, I would change or do differently. Thanks in large measure to the generosity and kindness of so many good friends and dear family members, my daughter's wedding was everything I had dreamed it would be. And Charlotte herself was the most easy-going, easy-to-please bride you could ever hope to meet. The entire experience was everything a wedding should be, and for that I am grateful.

I felt initially overwhelmed at the thought of blogging about it all. But now that both Charlotte and Michelle have done such fantastic jobs of summarizing the event, I'll just link to their blogs and you'll get a great overall feel for the occasion. I'll use my blog to try to record my feelings as a first-time MoB.

First off, I simply must state the obvious and somewhat trite sentiment (though so, so real): it just doesn't seem that long ago that Charlotte was the little girl in this picture, dressed to match her younger sister Emily.

Wood family, circa 1995 (Photos by Karen Rubin)

Thankfully, we did change somewhat after this first official Wood family portrait taken in the early '90's. Denim shirt buttoned all the way to the top--fuchsia striped jumpsuit buttoned all the way up? What was I thinking?!

Wood family, circa 1992 (photo by Karen Rubin)

Somehow, you think that--once you have all your kids--it's like, Ta-dum! This is my family--this is how it will always be. Wood family, circa 1998 (Photo by Barbie Jarvis)

And for a while, it is. School milestones, birthdays, holidays and the like come and go in a rather comfortable, cyclical sort of way.

Wood family, circa 2000 (Photo by Paula Woellhaf)

Yes, hairstyles and clothing trends change along the way, but this is our family: four kids--three girls and a boy. My family will always be this way.

Wood family, circa 2004 (Photo by Paula Woellhaf)

And then, before you're even aware of what is happening, the milestones start getting bigger--graduation from high school, acceptance into college, graduation from college. And before you know it, your little girl in the plaid taffeta jumper is wearing high heels and falling in love.

And here's the thing: I wouldn't want it any other way. She has done everything in the right order--she has a fantastically bright future ahead with limitless possibilities. It's what I really want for her, and yet--just for a moment--I wish I could "Stop This Train, I want to get off and go home again."

Wood family, redefined, October 22, 2010 (photo by Michelle Olivier)

I guess it really is all about defining a new "normal." And, as John Mayer so aptly states, "Don't stop this train, don't for a minute change the place you're in." I wouldn't change a thing.

freedom