Life Goes On

Well, I am mostly cried out now. Sunday was the hardest; then just little things were hard—buying a suit for Bruce to wear for the funeral, reading the obituary, seeing Mom at the viewing was extra hard. (OK. That one was not a little thing.) Walking to the gravesite and wondering why nobody had waited for Margaret to come . . . ow.

I was pretty lethargic the first part of the week, and little things still come up that will make me sad. But the now funeral is over, and our life goes on, and it's time to be doing again.

A few weeks ago I had posted my lofty goals for the year—among them, cleaning my bedroom. I made pretty good headway during the first week of January. I even built a second shelf in the top of my closet so I could store more of my junk—I mean, treasures. But now it looks like I've done nothing in there at all. Time to start over.

My kids don't know this yet, but I'm going to work them over too. When I went downstairs yesterday my entire laundry-room and the adjoining bathroom was about a foot high in dirty laundry. My kids really do seem to think that the laundry is entirely my duty (regardless of what certain polls might say). Then I peeked into the girls' room and then into Michael and Jason's room (which are both downstairs too). Yes, their rooms are also strewn with clothes, about a foot deep. Brandon and Ryan's room is not covered with clothes because I made them clean their room the other day; this means that their 100 cubic feet of laundry has all been shoved tightly into one hamper.

I just don't think I can take the stress of all that laundry on top of the trauma of this past week. After the laundry tour, I looked around the rest of the house. It needs some work too.

Here is my evil plan: I'm going to hide all the Wii remotes, remove computers from Michael and Jason's room and ban all movies and trips to the library. NO privileges until I see that they can clean up and maintain some cleanliness. I have always wanted to limit video games and movies to the weekends (actually I'd like to eliminate video games entirely). And now I'm going to do it. I'm really going to do it.

I'm thinking 2 hours—maybe four hours of TV time on the weekend (that allows one or two movies—we don't watch regular TV), and 30 minutes of video/computer-game time for each kid on the weekend. (This actually translates to four hours of game time per child since they all sit around and watch each other play like it's the be-all, end-all of all time. BO-ring!) Of course, all this weekend fun depends on the imrovement of the work ethic.

The banishing of our weekly library trip may seem extreme until you realize that many of the books get lost each week, due to the disaster they are dumped in, and therefore we pay enough in fines to finance the entire library system every year. So, yeah, the library is banned too. At least until the afore-mentioned improved work ethic.

Well the kids are at school right now, but in for a big surprise when they get home. In the meantime I will get back to work on my own bedroom.

The real question is this: Who can hold out longer, the kids or me?

Margaret Louise White North 1945 - 2010

My mother-in-law passed away at 10:25 p.m. last Saturday evening, January 16, 2010. We knew it was coming, but that doesn't lessen our sadness. She was too young and it was too quick and she belongs with us.

I cried all day yesterday. I woke up OK, and then after a few minutes I just started crying. We went to church, and during Sacrament Meeting do you think we got to sing Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel, or Shall the Youth of Zion Falter? Nooo. We sang songs like Where Can I Turn for Peace? and Come, Follow Me. And we heard talks on Matthew 11:28-30: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.

Church was not the place to be to stop my crying; I should have gone to play tennis instead. [above left, Mom's obituary]

After Sacrament Meeting was over, Bruce taught the Gospel Doctrine class (on the creation) and then I taught Relief Society (on "our heavenly family"). Our ward members got to hear, and see, more than enough crying from the Norths yesterday.

We went to be with the family last night. Before this last illness, Mom often felt very tired and spent a lot of time in her room even when we went to visit. And for the past month, every time we visited the house she was in the hospital. But now, even with Dad still there, and Brad and his family living there, and John, too, the house feels kind of empty. Maybe it's just the heaviness of our hearts that makes it feel so.

I am surprised by how very sad I feel. I mean, I love Mom and I knew I'd be sad, but I am so very sad right now. I know she must feel better to be freed from a body that was so sick; I know she's with her family who have passed on, and I know we will see her again. She does belong with us; we will be with her again. I know this.

But we will miss her; I grieve for my loss—even if it is temporary—I grieve for Bruce, who has lost his mother; I grieve for our brother John, with no wife to console him; I grieve for little grandchildren who won't know this grandma; and I grieve for Dad's loneliness too.

We will miss her.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Margaret. She is holding
her first grandbaby, Michael, on the day he was born.

"To die would be an awful big adventure!"

Peter Pan says it to Captain Hook as he's caught in Hook's clutches.

Death doesn't scare me, or seem bad to me. When I know that someone is dying I almost feel excited. It's kind of like anticipating the birth of a baby.

The dying itself—these months of illness, of not healing, of worrying, watching, waiting—that is hard. Losing your friend, your family, your mother—that is very hard.

But knowing there are people who will greet her and who love her—that is exciting! Who will hold her first when she arrives? Will it be her mother, like when she arrived here? What will she learn? What kind of work will God give her to do? Isn't that exciting to consider?

It really is just like a birth. Painful, laborious, and difficult for us, the mortals who are involved. Scary for the one who is leaving one existence to be born into another.

I guess the difference is that we spend so much time planning for and anticipating a birth. Funny that death always seems to take us by surprise. We have a lifetime to prepare for it, but we hardly give it a thought. We are so easily distracted. This life is the time to prepare to meet God; we can't meet Him without passing through death. But we are so busy with life that we don't think of it.
Are we preparing?

Now, as our hearts are open and tender—as my heart is open and tender—now I think of it and want to prepare, and want to be good, and want to be as ready as anyone can be.

Will that feeling stay with me as this tenderness, these labor pains, wear off and become a memory?

Hard Times

Bruce and I spent this afternoon with his mom, at the hospital.

Just before Thanksgiving Margaret (Bruce's mother) spent 13 days in the hospital, when she was diagnosed with a lung disease called Bronchiolitis Obliterans. She was able to be home for Thanksgiving Day and seemed to be doing well enough, all things considered; she was pretty cheerful despite having to stay reclined and needing an oxygen machine.

But on December 16 she was having such a difficult time breathing that she was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. She has been in the ICU since then. Mom has been declining rather than responding to treatments, and so last week they did some biopsies to see what else might be wrong. It looks as if she also has cancer. And on top of all that, last night she started having heart arrhythmia; at first we thought she'd had some minor heart attacks, but apparently it's not the same thing. On and off, throughout the day, her heart rhythm will be . . . not right.

Mom has had a tube in her throat, for a little over two weeks now, helping her to breathe; she needs to be fed by a tube that goes into her nose and clear down to her intestines. It's hard to see her lying in the hospital, with so many tubes and I.V's in her, and so many monitors all around. She is so weak and is having so much pain. She's been heavily sedated, but every now and then you can see by her expression that she is in pain. It is very sad.

I've been part of the North family for 25 years. Bruce's youngest sister, Amanda, was only five years old when we started dating; I feel like I've grown up with them and always been a part of their family. I really love Margaret. It's a hard time.

2010 Goals

Not that I have 2,010 goals, but goals for 2010. ;-)

They are few. Or maybe they are many.

1. Read my Sunday School and Relief Society lessons every week. I know, you'd think that I already do that, being the good girl that I am.
2. Practice the piano every day. Yeah, you'd think I already do that too, but . . .
3. Teach my kids to cook, and sew (they've been asking for it). I think I'll start easy, with embroidery—most of the kids who want to sew might not be able to reach the sewing machine pedal. Hmm. I think I've just now thought my way around that problem. :-)
4. And, my perennial goal: lose weight. I have 37 lbs. left to go—it was 48 last year, so I'm getting there slowly but surely. Actually I think I'd like to change that one to exercise more, because it's moving/working my body that makes me feel good—especially if I get to dance. :-) At any rate, I want to do something active for 30-60 minutes, three times a week. Maybe I'll get into a dance class—maybe belly dance, through community ed. Anyone want to join me? (Hunter High, Wed. 6-7 p.m, $45 for 8 classes.)

But today, and probably for the rest of the week, my first goal is to get my bedroom clean. I am Mrs. Tidy and Organized; Bruce is not Mr. Tidy and Organized. Add to that all the holiday happiness that just passed and my room is a complete wreck. Not exactly the peaceful, beautiful haven I'd like.

Is that my bedroom? Is that my bedroom?

And once the bedroom is clean I've got to tackle the laundry. In fact, I think I'll put Michael to work on that today. Can I make it his goal instead?

(On the subject of laundry, check out the poll in the sidebar.)

So there they are. My 2010 resolutions. Can she do it? For a whole year?