The Puzzle.

Today. I look back at this past year and marvel at how I am thankful for so many things.

I am thankful for my family. I love everyone of their bright and unique personalities. I am thankful that they love and support me. No matter what. I am grateful that they know me so well and believe in me. I am thankful for the presents they give me. Mostly. Just being around me. And wanting to spend time with me. I am so loved. And am so blessed. I have been given so much in my life. Especially today. Especially in the last year. I am grateful that my mother spent the day with us, and that I was able to feel her spirit and her love around all of us. I am thankful for the way that she inspires me. And loves me. Even if it's on the other side of the veil. I am thankful for the fact that we are able to stay together and help each other through such a difficult time. I am thankful for the love that is in our home. And for the Gospel that we all know to be true. That seals us together. As a forever family.

I am thankful for my friends. The few that have stuck by me. Taken the bullets and the pain with me. And stood up for me. I am grateful for the way they make me laugh. For the way they encourage me and help me through everything that has happened. I am thankful that they let me shine the way I was always supposed to. I love them. And wouldn't be who I am today without them. Without their love. And encouragement.

I am thankful for the friends I once had. When I used to be apart of something that was. Special. When we thought that love was enough to keep us together. When we decided it would be a good idea to go to college together. Not knowing that it would tear me away from them. They taught me a lot about being my own person. And not forcing people to be apart of something they didn't want to be. They taught me that it was the right thing to do. To walk away. To keep the rest of the things unsaid. Locked away. They taught me that people change. For better or worse. And that some people can't stay friends forever. I learned a lot about loving unconditionally. But also about letting go. Cutting ties. And burning bridges. They taught me that some things are better left unsaid. And that no one is perfect. They taught me not to expect anything. And mostly. To do what's right for me. And to not please anyone. But myself.

I am thankful for my boyfriend. Who is also my best friend. Who loves me unconditionally. Even if I'm unreasonable. Even if I get mad. Even if I am a little crazy. He thinks I'm beautiful the way I am. And wouldn't change a thing. He treats me the way that men should treat a woman. He's wonderful. He's sweet. He's handsome. He has an amazing spirit. I can't even explain how much he has taught me about patience. And loving unconditionally. He's true to God and doesn't change when he's around older, "cooler" people. He's the same person all year round. With a few changes. For the better. As we get older. He's been my best friend since freshman year in High School. We've had some rough patches and fights. But. We continue to fix and compromise. Knowing that it's all for the best. Knowing that God. Has a plan.

I am thankful for the trials I've had. Graduating. Depression. Insomnia. College. They have taught me a lot about who I'm supposed to be. Everyone says that your first semester of college is the hardest. I don't think anyone could have prepared me for what was to happen. What I was going to do. Who I was going to lose. I don't think I would have believed it had someone told me. And someone did. I tried with my whole heart and might to keep it together. But. Maybe that's why things fall apart. Why some people are only in your life for a certain amount of time. It's so you can grow. So they walk in as a new piece of the puzzle. They help you find other pieces. And soon. They've served their purpose. And all you're left with are memories of the way people used to be. How they used to be apart of your puzzle. But they just don't fit anymore. And that's okay. That's why we have family. Because they will always be apart of your life. Always fit in. No matter who else falls away. Walks away. Runs away.

I'll always have my family. The pieces of my puzzle that will forever be. Apart of me.

Take A Bullet.

There's a song called Grenade by Bruno Mars. It's pretty self-explanatory.

'I'd catch a grenade for you.
Throw my hand on a blade for you.
I'd jump infront of a train for you.
You know I'd do anything for you.

I would go through all of this pain.
Take a bullet straight through my brain.
Yes, I would die for you.
But you don't feel the same.'

This song could easily be taken as a love sick pathetic teenage heartbreak song. Which. I'm sure most people have taken it. But. A person I look up to. So much. And love with my whole heart said something to me about this song, that pretty much changed. Everything.

'Isn't life about taking bullets? I mean. Not the literal gunshot bullet, but you're shot with hateful words, friends that once were. Taking a bullet for someone, I always thought, was literal as well as a metaphor. That you stand up for what's right, and if you're hated for it, the people that stick with you, take the bullets with you.'

You. Never took any bullets for me.

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A New Plot Line.

Since I am a character. And this is my life. Then. It's my story to write.

I tried for months and months. Maybe even years. To figure out where I was supposed to take my life. I wasn't quite sure which tale to tell. Which legacy to leave. Or. Rather. Where to burn my star. I knew who I was. That's for sure. I just wasn't positive on which path to lead. Then. I stepped back. I paused. And looked. I opened my eyes and realized something. I have always had it right in front of me. I've always had what I asked for. Since I was a little girl. I wanted to be a part of something bigger than. All of this. And it was staring at me. Straight in the face. This entire time.

Family.

I spent the last week and a half with my family. Not just my dad. Not just my sisters or brother. But. With my mom's family. I sat there in awe. At how. Loved we all are. How connected we all are. How close. We all are. And that's because of one person.

Dear Mamma,
   Thank you.
     For Everything.
   You gave me life. You gave me love. You gave me the truth of the Gospel. You gave me. A family. You brought us all together. Each and every one of us. Even the new members. Know of you. And talk of you. Like you're still here. You gave us. Each other. And nothing. Could replace that. You gave us each apart of you that shines when we're all together. We have all been touched by the legacy that you left us all. The hope that we could all be close. That we would all love each other. And help each other. Be with each other. Forever. Well, Mamma. I think. We're getting there.
   I think we all used to be a little hesitant. Not of just traveling to see each other. But. Spending days at a time with each other. But now. It's so. Easy. It's so. Enjoyable. I sat there. Watching your nieces and nephews run about. Watching my Aunts and Uncles. Watching my should be Aunt. And a new face to the family. Watched Dad and Whitney. And all I could think of. All I could feel. Was how grateful I was. For every single one of them. How connected we all are. And how much love we have for each other. And. That's all because of you, Mom. Everything you wanted this family to be. Is starting to happen. We love each other, Mom. More than you could have ever imagined. It's better. Than anything anyone could ever buy. Just sitting in the living room. Talking. Laughing. Is more than anything I could have ever wished for.
   Thank you Mom. For bringing us all together. For. Loving every person in this family. And thank you. For burning your star in the sky. So we could look at it everyday.
   I love you.

     Love,
   Your baby girl.

Change. Family. Love.

Things change. So fast. So fast you barely have time to comprehend what happened. Things change. For the better.


I finally had a wonderful day. A day I've needed for some time now.

My father is such a good man. One of the few gentleman left on this planet it seems. I know I can tell him everything. And I did. I talked so much I feel like he barely told me anything that was happening in his life. But, I'm sure he didn't mind. It's funny how you act when you're around someone so strong and powerful like him. Even though I'm his daughter, and know what a giant bear he is, I still would be intimidated by him if I saw him in a dark ally. So watch out. Hmm.. But I remember what my newest good friend said about him. "When he walked in the door, it was overwhelming. I could tell that he was a strong Priesthood leader. It's comforting.." And I knew exactly what she meant. I feel it every time I'm with him. Especially at my home. Our little home. Okay. Medium. Spacious. Home. That is filled to capacity with just. Love. Love of the Gospel. Love of the Lord. Love of our mother, who's spirit I feel is still there with us. Love of the Priesthood. Love of. Each other. It's amazing the feeling I get when I just know that I get to go home. And better yet, get to see my father. I know Heavenly Father is unbelievably incredible. Because. My earthly father. Seems to be perfect to me already. And he is an example of everything that God wants fathers to be. Just like Him. Thank you dad. I love you.

It's amazing the way God works. So wondrous. So. Breathtaking. It may take a while for people to realize why things happen. But. This last week. Especially the last two days. I've felt the love of God surround me. In everything I do. I went to Institute with a new friend. The lesson? Heavenly Father chastises those He loves. And through that love. Through all the mistakes you make. Through the Atonement. There's a way back. There is always. Always. A way back.

I have changed so much in the last little bit. And finally. It's for the best. And I know this. Because. I. Am happy. I. Am finally happy with where I am. Who I am. And who I'm with. I know that I have so many people that love me unconditionally and help me through all of these tough times. My new, wonderful, brilliant sister, Elimee, even was worried about me. Just talking to her made me feel better. And I know that's because she is such a great example to me of how I want to be. Just like my sisters. All three of them. And I guess my brother too. Lol. Dustin. He's amazing. So smart. So content. Easy going. The peacemaker. I don't know where I would be without him. He would probably have less marks on his chest from me stabbing him with a fork. But I know he loves me. I guess I need to talk about my other two sisters now too. Michelle. She helped raise me. Helped me become who I am today. Worries about me and talks to me. I can tell her anything and I know she'll have an answer for me. Always. Whitney. Whinney Whinney Whinnnneeeyyy. Practically my twin now. I love her so much. She's such an example of sticking through the bad to end up where you want to be. And not let people get in the way of those goals. Always lifts my spirits. Even when we fight about how opposite we are in some of our opinions.

I love my family. My little. Lovely. Family. There's not much else to say. Just that, I know that I was meant to be part of it. I'm in this for a reason. I'm the youngest because I have a purpose. I've gone through what I have because I'm meant to do great things. Help people. Inspire people. And I will. It just took me a while to realize that I'm not going through all of this for me. But for my future children. Whom I know are loving being with their grandma right now. Because one day. I get to hold them, and know that my mom has already talked with this angel. And I know that I will raise that child with all the knowledge and love that I have been given through these nineteen years of my life.

I. Am ready to be the woman that God wants me to be. I. Am ready to take on the world. So. Bring it.

This Love.

A year ago I was in a car on my way to Utah. So my siblings and I could catch the six o' clock plain to Rochester, Minnesota. To see our ill mother, that had currently been in a hospital for almost a month straight, if I remember correctly. She was flown via emergency jet to Mayo Clinic, for a third open heart surgery. In between this surgery and her last, she had endocarditis, an infection in her heart. She had the heart of a hundred pound woman. She wasn't going to last through a third surgery. We all knew that. But we hoped and we prayed unlike any other time in our lives. This was our mother. Our best friend. We knew that it was her time when she hugged us before they took her to the plane. We all knew we'd never see her spirit and her body united when we said we'd see her when she got home. When she didn't say anything after we told her we'd all be here when she got better. Because we all knew, the next time we would get to see our mother, alive and well, the next time she would get to hold us again, and tell us how much she loves us, is when we all go back home, from where we all came from. We all knew that our mother wasn't crying because she was scared, but because she loved us so much and she knew it was time to go meet her Heavenly Father. She cried because she knew that all of us, eventually, would be just fine. She knew that she wasn't going to see us on this earth again through her earthly eyes, but because she knew she was going to be watching over us from that point on. Watching over us and loving us from above.

A year ago, I knew my mother was gone. I held her hand and felt her blood run cold. I watched as her broken little heart stopped beating. The breath in her lungs run out, and her eyes never open again. I was seventeen years old. No seventeen year old should be standing in an ICU room, holding their mothers hand, praying for a miracle, as the doctors turn the machines off that kept her body alive. No person should spend their eighteenth birthday without the woman that gave birth to them. No senior in high school should face the life changing decisions they will make alone.

I struggle everyday. I thought it was getting better. I thought I was doing alright. And then, out of no where, it all started to crash down on me again. I started to feel like that little girl that stood there grasping onto her mothers dead hand. I started to feel like that hopeless child laying in that hotel bed, not sleeping, not eating, just crying. I started to feel like I couldn't move on. I started to feel as though my whole life was falling apart again.

I'm breaking. Piece by piece. Just, breaking down. I can't seem to move on anymore. I can't seem to let go of my mother. I wish everyday that I could just have her hold me again. I'd give anything. Because nothing can replace the love of your mother. Nothing can replace the sound of her voice telling you how much she loves you. Nothing can replace the reassuring words that she would tell you when you were hesitant about something. Nothing. Replaces the love that you have for the woman that made you who you are today.

Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow.

Today. Never ends. You don't just go to bed and wake up and it's today. It's been today since the beginning of time. Days change. Months end. Years go by. But you never see tomorrow. You never saw yesteday. Because today. The day you're in. Is always. Today.

Today.. Is the 5th month anniversary of my mothers death. I'm only eighteen. And today.. Was one of the hardest days of my life. You think you can just forget it. Put it out of your mind. If you stay positive and do good things you won't even remember what today is. I tried. It didn't work. My best friend. Didn't even know what today was. He didn't even talk to me. Which makes everything. Ten times worse. I stayed home. And sat quiet. Thinking. Wondering. Wishing. What things could be like at this very moment.

I sit here wondering how I would treat her now. Seeing her lifeless, with the only thing keeping her heart beating, her lungs filled with air, her blood flowing.. Were those machines.. Her skin was already breaking down on her forehead from where my dad kissed her countless times each day.. Her chest cut upon, still banaged and red from the three surgeries she's gone through on her heart in less than a week. Her arms and legs covered in banadages and tissue, bruised and mangled from the doctors trying to reconnect her nerves that just stopped working.. Her spiritless body lying there in two conjoined ICU rooms because one wasn't enough to hold all of the machines.. And there our little family stood as those machines were turned off after we were told there was no hope for her brain to recover. She would have been a vegetable. But she never tried to breathe on her own when the doctor shut down the machines. Her too small of heart filled with valves from robots and pigs even.. Slowly stopped beating.. Her eyelids didn't flutter.. She couldn't hug me from that moment on anymore. Or talk to me. Or tell me she loves me.. That moment while I held her hand and felt it run cold.. I was alone.

I left that hospital by force. I wanted to stay there with her. She wasn't just a lifeless body to me like she was to the doctors. She wasn't just a peice of meat that needed to be wrapped up and shipped to the mourge. She was my mother.. The woman that gave birth to me. Who talked to me. Who held me. Who taught me. Who was there every single minute of her day for me. Who unconditionally loved me..

I think she knew. I think she knew when she hugged me and kissed me and told me she loved me as they wheeled her out to the plane to her death.. That is was her time. That she wasn't going to see us on this earth again. That from that point on. We had to raise each other. That when we said see you when you get home. That we actually meant when we're all back together again in heaven. A family forever.

So here I sit in my bed. Alone. And all I have left are memories. Good and bad. The love that she showed. The difficult times. The years that were stolen from her. From me. I sit here at eighteen years old. Going through things that most people never do. Most people never saw their mother in bed from the time they were eight. Most people didn't have to help their moms get out of bed or hope and pray they could make it to church. Most people didn't have to grow up so fast..

I guess in some cases I know more than most adults. I have feelings and hopes and experiences that some people will never, ever, feel. I feel as though I'm doing no justice to the part of her that lives in me. I know I'm not. Sometimes I'm so mad. Why me? Why now? What did I do so horribly wrong that I don't deserve a mother? A best friend who knows what I need and does it? Why did I lose one of the only people that truly loved me?..

Today. That day. Never ends.

For you mother

Dear Mom,

I had an interesting day. That would not have gone as it did, if you were still here.

I want to tell you all about it. But you already know. But I feel like I need to write it down anyway.

My director seems to know me better than I know myself. He ranted about all of these things I feel for my dying husband. Former husband. Then he said. "Even after you left. Who did you call? Who did you turn to? Who was always there? Who always loved you?"

Mom.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry that I never respected you. I'm sorry I never gave you the affection a teenage daughter should give her mother. I'm sorry that I couldn't break the chain and have an actual relationship between us. I'm sorry that I was so stubborn and selfish to realize everything that you did for me. Every single day. I'm sorry that I could never be an actual daughter to you. I'm sorry I never shared anything about my life with you. I come home to an empty house everyday after school, wishing that I could have changed everything. That I could have told you every little thing..

I wish I was better Mom.. I wish I wasn't so mad. I wish I wasn't so frustrated about everything. I wish I didn't hold grudges. I wish I wasn't mad at God. I wish.. You were back here. Sitting in the living room with Dad and I.

It's so hard without you.. It's so hard..