A sleepy boy . . .

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As you can see from this very fuzzy photo of Beckerman, he absolutely, positively loved every second of my forcing him to wear a Coca-Cola 12 can box. #iamameanie #beckermanmojibailey

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😊

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"Our lives are like quilts bits and pieces, joy and sorrow, stitched with love." I recently walked into my tv room, sat down on the couch, reached for my book on the coffee table and then noticed this beautiful table runner. My sweet mom's amazing sewing ability, beautiful hand and needlework, wool work expertise, mad quilting skills, fun touches of seasonal decor, and overall art and craft capabilities are endless. I treasure every handmade gift she's bestowed upon me. In fact, I still have the very first doll she made for me 40 years ago. It's a Raggedy Ann doll complete with a red, hand-stitched heart and the date of my heart operation. Although it is gently tucked away in my box of treasures, I find that my level of gratitude for such an intimate and heartwarming gift grows stronger as I age and become more aware and appreciative of family, love, and tender mercies. I'm not sure my mom will ever truly know how much her thoughtful gifts mean to me, especially because there is no end to her selfless love and service. She will quietly load and unload my dishwasher when I've had a hard time getting out of bed. She'll put the clothes I left in the washing machine into the dryer. She'll bring down a plate of warm cookies and leave them on my counter. She'll clean my bathroom when she knows I've been sick or am in pain or am struggling with both. She and my dad are angels who reside 12 steps above me. I think it's fairly evident to state that life isn't easy- it has never been and it never will be. Every single human being on this earth has adversity. Everyone hurts. Everyone has pain. Unfortunately, this is easily forgotten when anger, frustration and other forms of negativity slap, kick and punch us repeatedly. I, myself, am guilty of disregarding the need for humanity which is why I'm grateful I have parents who remind me to stay the course with their kind, patient, and compassionate service. If I am able to retain even the smallest portion of their goodness, I just might have a shot at surviving this gig. I may even go as far as becoming one of the angels living among us. #notsorryforthelength #writingisexcellenttherapy

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When your cousin calls and says she won a bunch of Real Salt Lake swag but isn't going to use it since they aren't soccer fans, you: A. Berate her for not loving the world's greatest sport. B. Grab the goods and run. C. After a short minute of wondering how anyone could actually hate soccer, give her a bad time and graciously accept the goods.

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Waxing nostalgic

As I waxed nostalgic last night, three small photos fell from the pages of my first diary. I can honestly say that I have no idea why, or how long, they sat as bookmarks to the entries of my elementary school outpourings: recess, boys, friends, and an undying love for Gilbert Blythe seemed to be my only concerns in the mid 80's. 

I smiled as I looked at the pictures of my brothers, noticing some common traits between the three of them and my nephews. All of the sudden I remembered a FB memory I had scrolled through earlier in the day. I logged back on and decided to have a bit of fun with the comparisons. My brothers are all grown up and have lives of their own. The physical differences are obvious; they don't have baby faces anymore. Changes in height, weight, hair color, and facial hair are evident. However, a few things are the same: Jason still has a tender heart and also reigns as one of the funniest people I know; Brent continues to reach out to those in need and has made an impression on my niece when it comes to including others; Craig is still one of the hardest workers I've ever known. He is willing to put time and effort into his projects as well as helping others in need. I'm older than all of them, but they take care of me. They are good, kind, loyal men and I am proud of each one of them. My three brothers aren't perfect, but I wouldn't change the memories we've made for anything.

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My main man

We shared an apple, bowled with all of his favorite toys, played outside with tennis balls and squeaky bones, took a walk, and then after one more round of throwing tennis balls around outside, we came inside and he stretched out, rolled onto his side and was snoring in no time. This man of mine makes me laugh, keeps me preoccupied, and has found a permanent home in my heart.

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Beckerman and the Vegas boys

After almost a full week of fun with his Las Vegas boys, Beckerman was tuckered out. They played tug-of-war, chased each other, jumped up and down, wrestled, threw toys and tennis balls, went for walks and picnics, took trips to the park, watched fireworks, laughed and giggled, dropped plenty of treats for Beckerman to enjoy, and then fell asleep each night, only to awaken the next morning ready for more adventure. It's safe to say that Becks is attached to his Vegas buddies since he tried to sneak into the van as they were getting ready to leave. He loved being around boys and can't wait for their next visit. Thanks Jackie Chan, Owie-O, and Graham-mar time for including Beckerman in all the fun. We all loved having you here. 

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California love!

California has a special place in my heart. I served in the California Roseville mission (north of Sacramento to the Oregon/California border) 1,000 years ago, and although impartial to the redwood trees and NoCal feel, I have grown to love SoCal as well. 

My parents know of my love for Cali and knew I needed a respite/a getaway/a reset. They booked a 5 day trip for my mom and I without my knowledge. It was what I needed and I am truly humbled and grateful for their love, patience, and understanding. 

You see, I'm not easy to love right now; but, they continue to support me and haven't given up on me. My life has made some unexpected terms and I'm blindly grasping for every ounce of hope I can find. I'd be lost without them . . . a

statement I can make both literally and figuratively. Thank you, mom and dad, for all you have done and continue to do for me. And mom, thank you for wrapping your arms around my prickly exterior this last week. I will always need you: 

"She makes broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. She walks with the Universe on her shoulders and makes it look like a pair of wings." -Ariana Dancu

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Happy Birthday Beckerman!

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This is my brave ...

I came across a quote recently that speaks volumes. I realized that I have to include the bad (or difficult) parts of me in addition to the good. If not, I'm cheating my true self. The interpretation, of course, is different for all of us, but I think it is safe to say that our flaws and failures are just as much a part of us as our good attributes and achievements. I don't know if it is acceptance, a swallowing of pride, or a recognition of growth. I just know I can't demand the warmth of the sun without acknowledging my shadow: "You never realize how much of your background is sewn into the lining of your clothes." -Tom Wolfe 

I am in love with the power words hold. 

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Tuesdays with my boy. And yes, I bought him a purple cow with a squeaky hot pink udder!

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A year ago . . .

A year ago today, we let go of Mia. I have so many things I want to say, but the quote over the picture of Mia and the one in this post do a good job of summing up a lot of what I'm feeling. I'd be lying if I said this last year has been easy; It has been a bit rough but I'm trying to find and focus on the good. I'm trying to move forward. "Sometimes we make the mistake of equating the depth of our love with the depth of our pain in grief. Folks can convince themselves that if they let go of the grief, they are forgetting and dishonoring the memory of their animal pal and the relationship they had. Our animals are not asking that – they are asking us to move forward, as they have" (Roper, Janet. "The Anniversary Reaction: Grieving Your Pet,." Web log post. janetroper.com. N.p., 24 Apr. 2014. Web. 9 July 2017.) I miss you Mia . . . . to the 🌙 and back! from Instagram

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Change Requires Effort

I love this beautiful message from Maya Angelou. "You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them. Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud. Do not complain. Make every effort to change things you do not like. If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution." 

I have found that reacting with poise and grace don't always come naturally for me. I have always assumed that wisdom and patience were synonymous with experience and the aging process, but I have either not reached that potential or my assumption was off. Either way, I've decided that getting from A to Z requires trudging through 24 additional letters and, therefore, it may be best to simplify my outlook with three words- Change requires effort. The fact that these three words can be used as both nouns and verbs (and adjectives, adverbs, etc.) is a bit daunting and may just be challenge enough; however, if I can keep it simple, I may just find myself wringing out the water in someone else's dark cloud.

When in winter . . .

The first winter storm

Holds moments to behold

As each graceful flake

Bathes in city lights' glow

The sidewalks fall empty

Streets darken like coal

Quiet whispers of angels

Lie in each bed of snow.

-T.B. Williams

A dimmed light

The weight of darkness
Vanishes in light
A light spring in step
Replaces the aching fight

Run down through the meadow
Let your fingers touch the grass
Sing with symphonies of birds
Watch the river trickle past

Look up to the blue
And cotton stuffed sky
Mimic movements of clouds
As they slowly stretch by

Let the sunshine give kisses
Warming your face and your soul
Breathe in the fresh air
Wiggle each finger and toe

Remember these moments
Remember them all
For tomorrow you'll go back
Tomorrow you'll fall.

T.B. Williams 11/2016

Finding Joy in the Journey

This quote by Elder Scott has been a source of comfort during some very difficult times. Each time I read it, I find comfort knowing we are here to learn and to grow. That knowledge is also the reason I love this painting. Both the excerpt and the illustration remind me that we're not alone and that we can overcome and find strength in our Father's love.
I am currently struggling with some overwhelming adversity. The details are not important, especially because we all bear personal Gethsemanes. In the early morning hours, I found myself unable to sleep. I opened my scriptures and saw the quote. As I read it, I realized I had not read the entire talk for quite some time. I pulled up the conference talk online and re-read it, looking for answers to some concerns and frustrations. 

A specific paragraph really caught my attention and I felt peace as I looked over it multiple times: "When you face adversity, you can be led to ask many questions. Some serve a useful purpose; others do not. To ask, Why does this have to happen to me? Why do I have to suffer this, now? What have I done to cause this? will lead you into blind alleys. It really does no good to ask questions that reflect opposition to the will of God. Rather ask, What am I to do? What am I to learn from this experience? What am I to change? Whom am I to help? How can I remember my many blessings in times of trial? Willing sacrifice of deeply held personal desires in favor of the will of God is very hard to do. Yet, when you pray with real conviction, “'Please let me know Thy will'” and “'May Thy will be done,'” you are in the strongest position to receive the maximum help from your loving Father." 
I've been so angry and frustrated with myself and my circumstances that I have been asking the wrong questions. A change in the way I think, act, and pray just might be the strength I need to continue on. Life is NOT easy; however, I believe we can, and will, find joy in the journey when we remember who we are and why we are here. I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I know I'm not alone and that makes all the difference.

A Perfect Little Storm

I trip amid the darkness
Down steps of dense despair
I drown in hopeless waters
Grasping bubbles filled with air
No final depth was found
Nor floating to the top
A sand-filled hourglass           

Moves like minutes on a clock
Fatigue saps my strength 
Widened eyes wish to close
While pressure builds a path
From deaf ears into my nose
As quick as lighting flashes
Water leaves my pooling lungs 
Grabbed by ankles I'm above
As air finds my wanton tongue
Clenched teeth begin to break
I am back into the black
Like a dam holding water
Full of tiny little cracks
Few dominoes are left
Falling perfectly in form
This hell I live holds fury
To a perfect little storm.
-T.B. Williams 

Missing You

Missing You

I stood by your bed last night, 
I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying. 
You found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly 
as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, 
I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, 
I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times 
your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today. 
Your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, 
I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today, 
You tend it with such care. 
I want to re-assure you, 
that I’m not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, 
as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, 
I smiled and said “It’s me.”
You looked so very tired, 
and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, 
that I was standing there.
It’s possible for me to be 
so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, 
“I never went away.”
You sat there very quietly, 
then smiled, I think you knew…
in the stillness of that evening, 
I was very close to you.
The day is over… 
I smile and watch you yawning
and say “Good-night, God bless, 
I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right 
for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you 
and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, 
there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, 
live your journey out… 
then come home 
to be with me.  
– Colleen Fitzsimmons

Over the years, when I would think about losing Mia, I knew it would be difficult and therefore did not sit on that thought process for long. When she went blind two years ago and fell into keto acidosis, I was suddenly faced with the possibility of losing her. She fought hard to stay here and because of her miraculous rebound, her eye surgery went better than the surgeon anticipated. The healing process took time, but Mia patiently let us fill her eyes with drop after drop of medication. Up until the time of her death, she was still receiving three different types of drops each day. 

Sadly, her health continued to deteriorate. In fact, I think she was sick much longer than we will ever know. I keep thinking about how hard she fought to be with us and how difficult it must have been to lie there each day with pain and nausea. She gave us two more years of love before her little body could no longer fight. Her love and loyalty never wavered, even when I know she must have been miserable. That kind of unconditional love was, and is, almost unbelievable. I am still in awe of such a tender mercy. 

I miss her terribly. Everywhere I look, I see her. Different smells and sounds remind me of her. I miss her nightly barking as she waited for a furry friend to respond. I long for the times when her sass was in full force. I loved the way her nails clicked on the wooden floor. I miss hearing the dog door as she went in and out of the house. I miss watching how much she loved our drives around the neighborhood; she loved putting her head out the window as she took in the smells and sights. I miss her obsession with the ducks and geese at the lake. I yearn for her barking at the birds that tried to share her pond and our "field trips" to see the elk, bison, horses, and shetland ponies; she had so much to say every time, so I would drive slowly and stop every now and then so that she could get a good look. I love how much she loved drinking from the hose. I miss her sitting on the front porch and beneath the shade of the tree in her backyard. I miss her "woo, woo, woo's" and her "blowing air out of her nose" when she was frustrated and/or irritated.I love that she had no shame as she'd roll onto her back and spread her legs in anticipation of a belly rub. I miss her beautiful brown eyes, her long eyelashes, her warm ears, her calloused paws, and the way she wagged her tail. She was, she is, perfect. She is love. She is my beloved.