steppin' out

Just when I'm coming to terms with having a daughter who's married and another almost through college, my son--my little blonde-haired boy--goes to Prom. And his date has cleavage.

Don't get me wrong--she's a very nice girl--I really like her, and I'm all for going to Prom, it's just that how did John get old enough to go?

I decided to make a fancy vest for him to wear with his black (choir) tux. I was able to buy fabric for the vest and bow tie, a nice tuxedo shirt from Jos. A Banks, and a beautiful set of gold cuff links/shirt studs for less than it would have cost to rent an outfit. And let me tell you, my little boy looked pretty studly. His date was happy, too, because I managed to custom-match her gold dress.

I made sure he had a pretty corsage to give his date (though I did have to remove a considerable amount of gobby ribbon. Yes, those are gold rhinestones and a pearl bracelet. Apparently corsages have come a long way since the early '80's.

Look at her beautiful 'do!

And I guess John will always be my little boy, even though he now towers over me at 6'5". *sigh*

really? . . .

This came in last week's mail:

. . . with a little help from my friends

As I marked the one-year anniversary of my Mother's passing, I'm pleased to say that I felt happy. Happy that I know she is alive and well--vibrant and healthy, happy to be safe in the knowledge that she is not far away and that I will be with her again, and mostly happy that it is not one year ago. And one more thing I know for sure: Mom would want me to be happy.

I have also felt the strength of the Savior's injunction to "mourn with those who mourn, and comfort those who stand in need of comfort." Knowing that many of you were joining me in the Bread Brigade (so dubbed by Jessie) was strengthening to me, as were the many kind expressions sent by friends and family alike. I was touched by how many of my friends remembered the anniversary of her death and reached out to me with loving arms; it makes me want to be more mindful of and kind to others who need love and comfort.

Susan sent me this darling framed piece--a happy reminder of Mother's artistry in the kitchen--

that I placed in my kitchen here:

I made Buttermilk Bread on Thursday night and my Dad and I delivered it to three of Mom's close friends. Regrettably, I forgot to take any pictures. I made another batch on Saturday and we delivered loaves to a few ward members between General Conference sessions.

On Friday, after buying some beautiful roses, we drove to the cemetery to place them on Mother's grave.

Karen, Daniel (her husband, not pictured), John, and Sarah came along, too.

On the way home we had to pull over to take a picture of this sign we had spotted at a high-class establishment on our way to the cemetery:

Apparently, there wasn't enough room on the other side of the sign for the whole word.

Mom would have laughed, too.

I love you so much, Mom. I miss you terribly, but want you to know that I'm getting by--with a little help from my friends.

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. . . .