Valentines Week

Here is one of my Valentine gifts from Caleb (along with a Steak dinner that night:)



 Mark and I got the kids valentines treats and left them at the door for them to find from their secret admirer

Caleb joked that this heart shaped pizza was going to be my V-day dinner.  It was so good, I would have been fine with it...but the steak dinner was amazing.

 I "broke his heart" shaped pizza.

We took the kids to basketball practice and then we hang out and play at the Rec center.  We do this about twice a week.  The kids love it!  Cheap family time I say. 

The boys are practicing in the background while Caleb and Lydia throw the football.   I did take pics of the boys but they all turned out blurry. 

 Huddle before game time.

 Lydia (my Tom-Boy) always steals Caleb's hat.

Also, she insist on having a tooth pick in her mouth like Caleb does.  He has a handful in his coat pocket and she always helps her self.  As long as she doesn't run with it. 

Now that we got rid of TV, we have to find our own entertainment.  Caleb has taught them Solitaire and Uno, but they always look forward to war time with guns (below).

Lydia likes to put t-shirts on Pepper.

Joshua Caleb Stanley-Gray

This is Caleb. We have been dating since New Years. He is from Florida/Tennessee but has since moved here to Utah. He is LDS and quite the southern gentleman.

Plays the Guitar (self taught)

Loves to Fly Fish

Is a cowboy

Works at the Canyons Ski resort

Is a Civil War Reenactor (Southern of coarse) since he could walk

Rides horses

Adores my children and like wise

Jam sessions with Miss Lydia all the time

In Love

Life is good and I am SO happy!

My Mother's Monument

My Mother is buried in Safford, AZ for two reasons. First, that is where she was born, but I laugh because I always remember mom saying, "I really don't care where I am buried, I will be gone by then". The second is my Dad's parents saved a plot for him and my mom to have next to them. I guess it's a good thing that my mother didn't really care.

My Dad's parents are on the left and my Mom and Dad's headstone is on the right. Dad wanted them to resemble his parents with the same stone. This stone is rare and very expensive. There is only one quarry in the world that carries this red and black granite with quartz crystal. It took about three month to mine it and then it was shipped to Georgia to be cut and polished. Next it was transferred to Tucson, AZ where it was engraved. It weighs 2,600 pounds...over a ton. My Dad spent a lot of time on what he wanted engraved asking us kids over and over again what we thought, making sure everyone was happy with it. He traced the flowers from his parents stone and the guy who engraved it did the flowers by hand on Mom and Dad's.

Dad had a foot stone made for him and Mom made from the same stone. I told Dad please let us kids know where you have placed your foot stone so we are not in a panic when that time comes...and it better be a long time from now!

Dad was tired of sitting on the metal fence when he visited Mom so he decided to make a western wooden bench to go in the plot. He made it all by hand and engraved it too. The four livestock brands consist of Dad's side of the Bowman family. Dad's is the "A" dart which was his fathers.

Dad did a beautiful job making their monument JUST RIGHT. The flowers look beautiful!

Death and Divorce

Here we go. My life over this past year has taken a complete turn around. Within six months I lost my angel mother and then my marriage to Mark. The coincidence? My Mom passed away on my wedding anniversary, June 3rd. That day will now be solely dedicated to my Mom as a day of remembrance of who she was as a Mother, confidant, and best friend…no longer a day of a wedding celebration.

I have never spoken freely of my Mother’s death nor her funeral as it still seems sometimes so un real to me. I have been working on this post for weeks now, having to take a few days break in between as it is too hard to write about at times. Now I am ready to open up and keep this entry for my children and myself and it is something that I will never forget and hopefully my children will have a small incline of how much there Grandmother meant to me and how much she was loved. I know that I am somewhat in denial of her passing still…it’s obvious… as it is easier to deal with pretending she is still around most days then dealing with the fact that she gone from this earthly life forever. I am still waiting to feel her presence around me and maybe that will come in due time as I have been pre occupied with the loss of a 12 year marriage, adjusting to a new normal, and worried sick about how my three little tykes are coping with life’s changes.

I never thought that while I would be struggling with a divorce (one of the most life changing moments in my life for my children and I) that I would be doing it without my Mom’s comfort, loving arms, and smile and tears letting me know that everything is going to be ok. Thankfully, I have the most unconditional loving, caring, understanding, amazing Father that any girl could ask for. He has been my rock my confidant that I have been able to turn to along with my sister Kristen and my best friend Rachel. Hardly a day goes by where my sweet Dad doesn’t call and check in on me, just like Mom would have done if she were here. There have been some pretty dark and lonely days between losing my Mom and this divorce that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone and it’s those days that just hearing my Dad’s loving voice makes me feel like I can get up and move forward. I would try to put on a brave face for myself, my kids, and everyone else mainly because it’s a way of coping. There are days where it gets the best of me and a seat on the floor in the bathroom, with the tub water running meaninglessly, my face buried in a towel so I can cry my eyes out and no one has to hear me is the only way to let out all the built up different emotions I was, have, and am experiencing. Some days going to bed early is the only way for me to wash away a dreadful day. You can try to pick yourself back up, but sleeping it off and starting fresh the next morning is the only temporary cure that seems to work as you try to move forward.


I miss thee my Mother! Thy image is still the deepest impressed on my heart. ~Eliza Cook

Mom’s funeral-July 3rd, 2011. Losing your Mother at such a young age seems un fair. At times I feel selfish for wanting her here so badly that I forget how much pain she was in. I still struggle daily with the thought of “Why her? Why now?” I was angry for so long after her funeral and still have those feeling surface once in a while, especially when I need her and just simply want her arms around me to make everything better. Maybe it’s not anger, maybe it’s more like frustration that she is not here to enjoy this earthly life with me and my family.

Her funeral was everything I think she would have wanted. Mom was so funny about not caring what we did for her funeral and she always made that very clear (as my Dad is the complete opposite and updates his funeral plans/ideas every now and then). So in a way it was easy that Dad and us kids could put her funeral together with our own desires…but we questioned through the process if that is what she would really want. Afterwards I believe she would have been pleased.

I have never felt such deep sadness and pain during that week. I will never forget how much my heart seriously physically hurt. It was something I had never felt before and it scarred me at times. It was one of the most draining weeks of my life. It came to a point that the day of the funeral there were no more tears. I was just existing, numb to idea that my Mom really wasn’t coming back.

Moments of that week that I will never forget is the first time I walked into my parent’s house and Mom wasn’t there. It was a different feeling. I stood in the door way and hugged Dad and Melissa then went straight back to Mom and Dad’s bedroom. I shut and locked the door and just cried on her bed. I then went into her bathroom where her walk-in closet was and fell into her clothes and buried my face. I could still smell my Mother and for some reason that brought me comfort…with tears though. Nothing had changed. Her glasses were still by her bedside, whistle was still on toilet roll holder, and her hair was still in her brushes. It seemed so strange that she was gone for it was like she was still there.

All the siblings arrived, family by family within the next day. The more they came the more I disappeared. It was hard to exist with all these sweet little grandchildren in the home (some of the clueless of the seriousness of the situation) as you want them not to see you so sad because it scares and worries them. So it was easier to let Mark take over in the main family room and for once and I didn’t feel guilty of not socializing much nor being the best parent that week…as this was MY mom and I needed to be a child and grieve over her without stuffing away all the feelings and emotions just to be strong, for that is what I had done for the past year and I was tired. Tired of putting on a smile for everyone else.

Decisions were being made right and left and for what seemed like a few days felt like weeks. Long days and long nights. I had no appetite. I don’t think I ate a real meal that whole week. My stomach was empty and silent.

One of the biggest hurdles I thought I would have been able to do and was caught off guard by my emotions and pain was dressing Mom. We have an amazing cousin that is a funeral director up here in Utah and he came all the way down to Arizona to preside over the funeral. He personalized it so much for us and let us do things and make decisions that normally we would have turned away from. One of them was dressing Mom. We (my Dad, siblings, and Mom’s sister) met in the funeral home one afternoon with my Cousin and he talked us through the process of what to expect when dressing Mom. One thing he could have not prepared me for was seeing Mom for the first time since her passing. I was more worried on the drive up about my sister Kristen fainting and thinking we better have a chair for her. I never thought that I would be so taken back by emotion. After the meeting we all went in. I lingered back as I was so hesitant of the moment. I got to the door way and about ten feet to my direct left was Mom. It was at that moment that every single emotion of anger, sadness, and love came crashing down on me. I backed up out of the doorway against the hallway wall, slid down it to the floor, and just cried. It was the ugly cry for I didn’t care who saw me. Dad came back out and held me why I just let it all out. He walked me back in and I had a hard time getting too close. There she was, lying on a tall, white, hard table waiting for us to visit and dress her. I knew from the moment I settled down that she was with us. I kept wanting a sign that she was there, but even though that never came I still knew that she was with us. Our faith believes that the spirit lingers close by to their body before burial, so I knew that she was with us somehow. Dad requested that us four daughters and Mom’s one sister Aunt Joyce dress her. It was a very private spiritual experience for us sisters and Aunt Joyce. As difficult as it was I would recommend this for any family member to do, as it was a bit of closer but also so beautiful. No one handles you Mother’s body more delicately and carefully with respect during that moment better than her own family. My Cousin stayed with us to guide us girls through the process of dressing her. Dad left us alone and sat with Nathan and his wife Maggie in the waiting room. She looked so peaceful. She looked different in many ways and better in others. For as much as her sweet little body had been through over the past year and a half, she looked so peaceful. She had so much white baby powder in her crystal white hair to help cover up her scalp that had turned black hours after her passing and so much foundation on her ears and hands for the same reason. She had been so swollen and bruised in the hospital, that her skin was so moist it would tear at every chance it had. They were afraid from all the liquids that were in her while she was passing that she would leak liquids so quickly in her new white clothes and soil them before the funeral. The only way to avoid that was to put her body in a white plastic body bag. Every part of her body was covered in that white thick bag except her hands, neck, and face. I had a VERY hard time with this but understood the purpose of it. The hardest part was seeing that they had to use duct tape around her hands and neck to seal the bag closed. It seemed so harsh and cold to me, but like I said I understood…just sad about it. All of us kids agreed on a beautiful white dress for our Mother. Very simple but definitely her. I don’t envy how Kristen had to go pick it up and for sizing reasons she had to try it on. I can’t imagine how hard that had to be for her. It took quite some time to dress her that afternoon but all five of us were mutually involved and it was very private, personal, and beautiful experience that I will cherish forever. We then called Dad and Nate in. Everyone helped carry Mom over to her casket. Dad picked her up and cradled her while everyone else helped carry somehow. It was very tender to see dad carry her so sweetly. At this point I just stood back up against the wall in the room and stared at the ground. It was too hard to watch. I felt bad for not helping but I couldn’t handle it for some reason, too much emotion. After she was gently laid down my Dad asked if I would do her hair. I felt honored. Mom’s hair was very hard to work with (as usual). I had just cut it VERY short a few weeks before and it was all over the place and what made it hard was that I couldn’t wet it down because they had put so much white baby powder on her scalp to cover up the black skin that occurred right after her passing. She had a lot of makeup on also so I had to be very careful. I worked on her hair for over 30 mins, reshaping her bed head hair. I had to get her hair wet with hairpray and the blow it quickly to make it dry while shaping with my pick comb. I was sometimes only an inch away from her face and it was very hard to be so close to her and not want to lay my head down on her chest, hug her, and just cry. For some reason everyone headed back out of the room and I found myself alone with her, doors shut. I was so nervous to be alone with her at first but then I realized that this may be the only time I would have so I took this time to pause and talk to her. I knew she wasn’t in that body of hers but I knew she was close, very close. I had so many things to say to her, but didn’t know where to start. I probably didn’t make sense as I remember my words and sentences being all over the place trying to get my emotions across to her. One thing I will never forget is the only place on her entire body that didn’t have makeup on it was the palm of her two hands. I was so captivated by this from the very beginning, even when we were dressing her all the way up to the last moment I had with her before the closing of the casket. The tops of her hands were covered with makeup to cover all the bruising, and if you touched it, it would smear. I found myself every time I was by her side from that point on taking my right hand, turning it upside down, and going under her hand to touch the soft smooth skin of hers, the only skin of hers that was left alone, devoid of. For some strange reason this brought me comfort when my skin touched hers. I talked and talked to her and then finished her hair. I felt bad leaving her in the room all alone when I was done so I went and got Dad to come back in and let me know what he thought. He was sweet, he put his arm around me and said, "You did good."

The drive back home two hours was the longest drive of my entire life. I sat in the back right of the van and just stared out into the sunset. Still, no appetite, nothing. This all felt like a bad dream. My best friend Rachel was a gift from heaven as she was unknowingly bomb-barded with random calls from me and became my listening ear at times when I am sure it was inconvenient. But she listened and listened, never once saying she understood, but just listened and cried with me.

The next day I worked hard on my musical number. I was to play my Hammered Dulcimer. The song selection was a medley, “If You Could Hie To Kolab” (Mom’s favorite hymn) and then “Lord Of All Hopefulness” (a British funeral hymn). The lyrics are so pretty on both of them. Below are the verses and lyrics I used in the medley.


“If You Could Hie To Kolab”

If you could hie to Kolob in the twinkling of an eye, and then continue onward with that same speed to fly. Do you think that you could ever, through all eternity, find out the generation where Gods began to be?

There is no end to glory; there is no end to love; there is no end to being; there is no death above. There is no end to glory; there is no end to love; there is no end to being; There is no death above.


“Lord Of All Hopefulness”

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy, Whose trust, ever childlike, no cares can destroy, Be there at our waking, and give us, we pray, Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith, Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe, Be there at our labors, and give us, we pray, Your strength in our hearts, Lord at the noon of the day.

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace, Your hands swift to welcome, your arms to embrace, Be there at our homing, and give us, we pray, Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm, Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm, Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray, Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

Give us your peace Lord, at the end of THIS day.


We headed down the next day to Safford Arizona, which is where Mom’s funeral was to take place and only miles from the church was the cemetery. All of us kids stayed in a hotel because Mom’s viewing was the night before and we didn’t want to drive three hours back just to drive threes hours again the next morning. This week was draining enough. We went straight to the chapel to set up for that night’s viewing. Laura did an amazing job of setting up a display table of Mom and memories, mainly pictures. If only everyone could see the amount of flowers that were sent with loving cards to go with them. Dad and all of us were touched by every single one and surprised by many that we had assumed forgot about us over the many years. The flowers encircled the entire room. Dad had selected personal hymns playing on a CD player close to Mom’s casket in the viewing room. Outside of the room was a video montage that Laura spent sleepless nights putting together of Mom’s life. It was nothing short of perfect! It is something that we all will cherish forever. Most, if not all the grandkids were kept in the gym during the two viewings. This made it so us kids could be with Mom and family that came through. I choose to not let my kids see their grandma at all this week, for I didn’t want that to be the last image of her in there mind. I wanted them to remember her as she was weeks ago on there last visit and that in it self was hard enough for them. I only went up to Mom’s casket a few times, mainly when there was a lowell in the traffic of people coming through. I would rub under the palm of her hand again and again asking myself over and over if all of this was really real? Was she really gone? And then reminding myself that yes, she was gone.

After everyone was gone that evening they wheeled Mom back out into the hurse to take her back to the funeral home. I kept my hand on her casket all the way till she was out the door. I feel so bad that my children were outside with there Dad playing off to the right side of the side walk and they saw me at my weakest moment. I was crying so hard uncontrollably…and at that moment I didn’t care. I know it scared them and made them sad to see their Mom like this, but I was so in the moment with my emotions that nothing and no one else existed. I knew that every long day that passed this week was one day closer of Mom's burial and I was in many ways dreadfully sad that it was going to be officially over but also being so emotionally drained that week I was needing it to be done.

Before we all left to go back to the hotel room, my sweet Father called us six kids back into the now empty viewing room and gave us all a box with a card. He told us to wait and open it up when we were alone and not around each other. He told us that he and Melissa (before we all arrived home before the funeral) they had gone through all of Mom’s jewelry and sorted out what they thought each of us kids would like to have and treasure. Also, this enabled us to wear a piece of Mom’s jewelry to her funeral they next day. The gesture was very thoughtful and sweet. We had a long family hug in that room. Crazy how something so sad can bring loved ones so close.

That night I stayed up late and wrote my two minute memory on hotel note pad paper (which later on would be placed in her casket in the memory box built in). I had a few memories I wanted to share the next day, but had to narrow it down to one and it wasn’t till I had quiet and peace that I could think and write. Once I started writing I couldn’t stop. Tears were on surface and it seemed like at that point I had nothings left, but somehow they found their way out. After I was finished I went to the couch. I turned on the lamp next to me and read Dad’s sweet card. I then opened up the box and about 20 pieces of jewelry were wrapped singly in white tissue paper. Every piece I un-wrapped meant so much. Some pieces were ones that I had given her but many were ones that I remember her wearing. It was one of the few happy moments of that week…

Getting ready the next morning was easy with the children and Mark. I think at this point I was ready for this week to be over. After we arrived at the church again, I didn’t stay long in the room for the viewing. I was in the viewing room the evening before and just wanted some alone time especially when I saw all the people. It was overwhelming. I found myself sitting in a primary room alone just so I wouldn’t have to smile and put on a brave face. There were SO many people who came, mostly family and most if them I hadn’t seen in years. I didn’t feel like catching up. I practiced my hammered dulcimer in the chapel for quite some time and that was a good distraction. My Cousin the funeral director was concerned that morning that I wouldn’t be able to perform because I was such a wreck emotionally days before. I assured him that I could do it and said to myself after he walked away, “How selfish of me to cry and break down during my four min. music number in honor of Mom, that this was her moment…and that she would want me to be strong for her.” To tell you the truth, by the time that the funeral started I was all cried out. There seemed to be nothing left. My heart still ached, but I was all dried up...

There were two large hurdles left for me. The closing of the casket and the burial. They called everyone in that was family for the closing of the casket/family prayer before the funeral. I dreaded this moment because I knew I would never physically look at my mother again, that I was going to have to rely on pictures, videos, and memory until I was reunited with her again in heaven. My mom’s brother and sister went up along with Mom’s Dad to say good bye. It tore at my heart strings to see Grandpa bend over crying, kiss mom, and say good bye. A parent should not out live their children nor should they have to bury them. Poor Grandpa had to do it alone without Grandma as she was not mentally stable to attend and understand. After they were done, us kids lined up along side with our spouses in order of age. Laura and her husband Mark went up first, and then everyone else in order. This was SO hard for me. I know that Mom was not in her body but I leaned so far in to whisper in her face (for privacy reaons) to tell her goodbye and how much I loved and missed her. There were so many people close by me and all I wanted was to have a moment alone. At this moment my tears were dripping on her face and normally I wouldn’t want to mess up her makeup for the viewing, but I remember telling myself it was ok because this was the end. One of my tears dropped on her eye lid and rolled into the corner of her eye and just sat laid there. At his point I wanted to wrap my arms around her again, hold her so tight, and beg for her to come back. My sweet Dad came over to my side and held me as I sobbed. For one last time I touched the smooth palm of her hand and walked away. Dad then went up last and said goodbye. This was very hard to watch, he was so strong and held it together. He whispered tender loving words to her that none of us could hear. We encircled around Mom’s casket. Dad helped close her casket and then locked it with a key. Dad was able to keep the key. I thought that was special and touching. We were then ready to proceed to the chapel for the funeral. All of the young grand kids were in the room next to us. As we followed the casket our children joined us in the hallway. The chapel was completely full. Mom would have been touched with how many people showed up to give their respects to her. The funeral was beautiful. Melissa lead the music. I played my musical number and was able to keep it together. I remember feeling numb when I got up to perform but extremely nervous. The most nervous I have ever been when I have had to perform. I had to not let my mind wander nor look down at mom’s casket to my lower left…for I knew that if I had a weak moment I wouldn’t make it through. Next, all of us kids gave a two min. memory of our mother which was at times funny, sweet, and heart warming. My memory touched on how Mom…even though she had four daughters in a row with different personalities, shapes, and sizes she made us all feel beautiful in our own way. She always took our strong points and enhanced them, but not ignoring us or blowing us off when we were hard on ourselves for whatever silly things we complained about. She listened but then always had wise words and wisdom to follow. Laura’s husband mark spoke (he is a Bishop) and gave some comforting words.

After the funeral, we all drove over to the cemetery. I remember driving in the precession and seeing someone mow their lawn. I thought to myslef, “STOP MOWING YOUR LAWN, don’t you realize what is happening? My Mom has died! How come the whole world just moves on like nothing has ever happened…as if it is just another day?” I honestly selfishly felt like they whole world should stop in respect for my mother and morn with us.

People piled in and around. It was so sunny and I made the mistake of wearing my sunglasses. I performed on my dulcimer one last time by Mom’s plot and I thought that if I wore sunglasses I wouldn’t see the shadows on my strings from the sun, but I was wrong because when I played my lower set of strings I looked straight down I could see double lines because I was not looking through my sunglasses and then when I looked up to play up high through my sunglasses, it was fine. It through me off! I played “If I had only one friend left, I’d want it to be you” by Dan Seal. This was Mom and Dad’s song. He sang this to her every night by her bed side for a year and a half while she was in and out of the hospital. Thank goodness I couldn’t see my Dad behind me when I performed it because my sister later on told me that Dad placed his hand on her casket and sang the words behind me. This would have set off a whole hose of water works for me. Below is a link to the song:

Dad and Mom’s song: http://youtu.be/oPnhSFrkpno

Lyrics :I always thought you were the best, I guess I always will. I always thought that we were blessed, and I feel that way still. Sometimes we took the hard road, but we always saw it through. If I had only one friend left I'd want it to be you. Sometimes the world was on our side, sometimes it wasn't fair. Sometimes it gave a helping hand, sometimes we didn't care. 'Cause when we were together, It made the dream come true. If I had only one friend left I'd want it to be you.
Someone who understands me, and knows me inside out. Helps keep me together, and believes without a doubt, That I could move a mountain, Someone to tell it to. If I had only one friend left , I'd want it to be you. Someone who understands me, and knows me inside out. And helps keep me together, and believes without a doubt, That I could move a mountain, Someone to tell it to. If I had only one friend left I'd want it to be you.

I played this song later on in October (four months later) with Caleb Gray for Dad. We performed it for him at a social dinner one evening at a civil war event. I played my dulcimer and Caleb played his guitar. We took turns singing the verses, but I added an extra verse to the end for Dad, one he had not heard before. It came to me weeks before hand one night and I couldn’t sleep so I quickly turned on my bed lamp and wrote it down on a scratch piece of paper. It made it more personal I thought. Here was the verse we added below. Caleb is representing Dad’s words and I am representing Mom’s.

Caleb (Dad): I know someday my time will come, when God will call me home
Amanda (Mom): …But until then please rest assure that you are not alone
Caleb (Dad): For I’ll be waiting for you, in every thought and dream
Amanda (Mom): Just call my name and I’ll be there, your true friend I’ll still be.


After the cemetery, Dad stayed back until Mom was completely laid to rest (over an hour). We all went back without him to the church house for a luncheon that was put on by three local relief societies to feed our whole crew. I don’t remember much after this. It was a long quite drive home to Sierra Vista, Mom and Dad’s house. We left the next day to head home to Utah.

After this week, my life was changed forever. Trying to settle in back home, taking in the fact that my Mom wasn’t coming back, wasn’t going to come visit, wasn’t going to ever hold and love on my babies again, wasn’t going to see them grow up and become who they are destined to be, but more difficult and selfish for me was knowing that this divorce between Mark and I was coming and she wasn’t going to be able to wrap her arms around me and tell me that everything was going to be OK. Sometimes, you just need your Mom’s loving arms and voice to make it all better. My Dad was literally heaven sent. He has been such an angel and even though he says over and over, “I wish I knew what to say, Mom would know what to say” he has been nothing short of perfect in helping me get through these past eight months. His daily check-ins and advice have been exactly what I needed. Some nights I would wait up for Dad’s call knowing it was coming and him not knowing how much I needed to hear his loving caring voice.

I have never felt more alone in my entire life then I did after Mom’s death and the months to follow, as Mark and I proceeded with this divorce. We handled this very quietly. Only close family and friends knew. They say that during hard times, you will find out who your true friends and family are. This was made very apparent to me! People who I thought would judge harshly on this decision stayed close by, others fell off the face of the earth using the excuse later on, “I didn’t know what to say or do”. I had very dark lonely days that if it weren’t’ for my sweet babies, I wouldn’t have a good enough reason to get out of bed for the day. I don’t think some people knew how much of an effect it had on me when they “left me alone” because they didn’t know what to say or do. This experience will forever change on how I react to others going through a divorce or hard times. A simple email, call (or message because for days in a row I didn’t want to talk on the phone to anyone) would have made the world of difference to me. It would have made me feel loved on days where I felt like everyone had forgotten about me.

We waited to inform everyone else about the divorce after it was over because it was easier that way, less drama and more so to protect the kids. We held off telling the kids till after it was final, right before the holidays. The timing was perfect as the holidays were an easy distraction for them. Some thought we should have let them in earlier, but as we all know… we as parents know our kids best and Mark and I have no regrets in the way we handled the entire divorce including on waiting to tell the kids. There was no fighting, yelling, or hateful things exchanged between mark and I so we didn’t fell the need to drag the kids into something they didn’t understand and have to deal with yet. All of our disagreements and decisions were made when our children were asleep. Someone gave me some good advice, “Handle this divorce with grace so you won’t have any regrets after all is said and done”. We did just that. Don’t get me wrong, there were a few late nights of tears and sad hurtful words exchanged privately between mark and I, but no one knew this but us. We put on a brave face during the day and put our kids first, knowing in the end this is what would be best for ALL of us. The process moved very quickly, much quicker than I had anticipated.

Looking back, do I regret the divorce? No. Some nights during the divorce process I questioned Mark on if this is really what we wanted (what was best for the kids), he assured me that years down the road we will look back and be happier and glad this decision was made now and not later. I must admit he was right. They say if you are happier alone then married, you know it’s the right decision. I do feel for my kids as they are so young and can’t quite grasp the long term effects it will have on all of us. There has only been one time each with my kids when they have questioned me why Daddy can’t move back in and when we can be a family again. But Mark and I have made such great effort to make this binuclear family work. Mark only lives five minutes away which is very convenient. We feel very blessed that they kids can see both of us as much as they do and want to. They sleep here at the house but we share equal time with them (every other day and every other weekend). On nights that Mark has them he brings them back, tucks them into bed, and fills up their humidifiers. We go to their scout meetings together. We both attend and sit by each other at there basketball games and all go out for ice cream afterwards. They like this and we do it for them. It has kept normality in there lives, which is what they need. Mark and I get along better now than we have before in a long time. The kids seem happy. I have them all enrolled in counseling at the school they meet once a week separately. This has been helpful to get them to open up and keep the communication likes open.

Dad came up for the holidays from AZ. He will never know how much he did for me. I got him for four days at my place between Christmas and New Years. They were fantastic bonding moments and late night talks that I will cherish forever. I kept him very busy with projects, moving furniture, fixing things, and hanging up pictures. He seriously is the sweetest father any girl could ask for. He took me to the hardware store and bought me a tool box and many tools to go in it. It was like Christmas all over again. He told me what every tool was used for and how I would need/use it. Mom had her own little tool box when we were little and it makes me smile and reminds me of her every time I open it up. One of the biggest projects was when we re-did my room. Mom and Dad gave me there canopy bed a year ago (one they slept in before we were all born, up until a few years ago). I had it in Lydia’s room without the canopy. Dad said that he would help me move it into my room and put it up. And wow was it a chore! It was a full day project!


I have taken this time to find myself again, more so religiously than anything else. For years I slowly have let my testimony of the gospel fall downwards, knowing better. I was so angry! Angry at God for letting my Mother get sick, letting my Father get sick, and then in the end taking my mother after what I thought was a miracle (lung transplant). I didn’t seem to care much about anything these past few years. I just coasted by. Lost who I was. Lost who and what I believed in… and now it is time to pick up the pieces and move on. I have relied on prayer/God more than ever. For the first time the kids and I are very consistent with family prayer and personal prayer. We pray more as a family then ever. The children’s prayers have evolved from selfish...to thoughtful and sincere. I have seen them grow spiritually just in the last few months, which in turn has created a sweet and beautiful feeling in our home because of these few changes we have made. Being a single Mom has made me slow down and take a deep breath. It’s SO much more work than I could have ever imagined but not as “bad” as I had anticipated. Makes me appreciate all the little things Mark did for us. I have had to put on my big girl pants and get my own bank account, pay my first bill, and learn to budget. I learned that the kids and I don’t need any satellite TV at all, fast internet, nor heat. Ok, the kids and I do need heat but not a 73 degrees warm house…more like a 65 degree house and like my Mom always said “put a coat on if you are cold”. I say, welcome to the poor house:) But hey, there is food on the table (off brand only except on cheese) and a roof over our head. We are learning to be grateful for the small things. Absolutely no more small toys or treats whenever we go to the store (only if it’s your birthday or x-mas), no more fast food, and only four squares of toilet paper per person, kidding!

Life goes on…