Our homes

Are you ready for a great story?

Back in September of 2015, Jake and I were talking about our family. What we needed and plans for the future. I expressed how it was so frustrating to only think two months in advance and that even if Jake did not have cancer we should be thinking about the next steps, especially for our kids.

At the end of the conversation, Jake said, "Maybe we need to think about moving."

It was one of those times where you instantly know it is right but you don't want to accept it.

So for the next few weeks we thought about moving. Where we should live. What we wanted for our kids. We were in a unique situation, in that because Jake was on long term disability, we no longer had to live close to his work. Instead of his job driving our location, we could shift focus to our kids.

Because of that we decided to stay in Phoenix for the school year to let the kids finish out their grades with their amazing friends and teachers. We also needed time to prepare our hearts to leave our beloved desert home, friends, and neighbors.

We thought about a lot of options, Hawaii being an amazing one. But not very realistic. We narrowed it down to three places we had previously discussed.

And after more thought and prayer it became clear. Provo, Utah was the place for us.

So in November I called my friend Emily, who had moved from Phoenix to Provo, to ask her about the area. At the end of the conversation she said she would keep her ear out for any homes becoming available.

Not two weeks later, she called back saying that her neighbors across the street were planning to sell their house in the summer and asking if Jake and I would like to see their home when we were there for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Before we went up Jake and I had discussed our "ideal" home. We decided that we would like our current house- a ranch style home, with with the addition of a full basement. We wanted 5 bedrooms and two living areas. We wanted an older home with updated kitchen and baths.  We wanted the garage off of the kitchen and a mature, grown in yard within walking distance of the elementary school.

We walked in to see the Provo home and it was exactly what we had imagined. Exactly.

We went back at Christmas to see it again with the kids and they left giving it a 10 out of 10 and asking when we could move in. Jake and I both felt so good about it and were incredibly grateful that it seemed to just fall into our laps and be available when we wanted it. The owners are lovely individuals and so willing to work with us.

And as things with his health changed during the beginning of 2016, ultimately resulting in his death last month, I am forever grateful to my Father in Heaven that Jake and I were able to make this housing decision together.  I can now see that the timing of our decision was no coincidence, but that a loving Father put the wheels in motion so that Jake could know where we would be going, give his approval, and set everything in motion for the kids and I to execute such a big change even though he would not physically be with us.

As we made the decision to move to Provo, we also started getting to work on preparing our house in Phoenix to sell.

All through the fall of 2015 Jake and I worked on decluttering our home. We went through everything in our house- pulling out the contents of the closets, bookshelves and under the beds and then sorting through it, deciding what to keep and what to toss, and putting everything in its place. I am so grateful that we were able to do that together. Just thinking about it puts a smile on my face.

We chose a realtor together and were in the stages of doing a few repairs and touch up paint to prepare to put the house on the market when Jake found out that his cancer had irreparably progressed. We put everything with the house on hold for March and April and didn't think another thing about it.

The week after he passed away, I felt a great urgency to get things going on our home and finalize what we needed to do to put it on the market. I set up a few things to happen (carpet and tile cleaning, painting) while we were at Jake's services and burial in Utah.

When we came back, my sister and friend Kelly spent that Friday with me boxing up decor, pictures, and clutter to stage the house for people to visit. Monday the dear women from church came to clean, Tuesday we had the exterior wood painted, Wednesday our realtor sent in the photographer and Thursday morning, May 12, it went on the market.

And that same evening, I had a signed offer on the table.

It sold the same day.

We are in escrow with plans to close at the end of June. Unbeknownst to either of them, it turns out the family buying our home go to church with my friend Kelly. They are thrilled to have our house. They have two girls and a little boy. They will love, entertain, and live here just as we did and I know that this home will be a sanctuary for their family as it was for ours.

I am still processing the thoughts and emotions of leaving our home. The place of most of our married memories. Where we brought three of our four children home from the hospital. Where I can remember Jake living, loving, and being in every room. Where we are surrounded by the dearest friends. Where we built a life together. I can feel that the emotional reality of this change is still to come and will hit piercingly hard.

But I had to share this story. I cannot even write about it without seeing so clearly the hand of the Lord. Manifest at every junction, in every decision, to every particular.

I am witness to promise of the Savior's admonition in Matthew 6:24-34.

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: 

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? 

Therefore take no thought, saying What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? or, pardon my addition, Where shall we live? 

For your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. 

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; 

and all these things shall be added unto you. 

I know that as we continue to seek Him, He will continue to provide for our family.

One month

Jake died one month ago today.

In some ways it seems like an eternity. In other ways it has flown by.

Life right now is strange.

I wish I could explain it. I am still trying to figure it out myself. I probably will be for a long time to come.

In some ways it feels like coming home from an LDS mission. You had your life before, you lived an intensely physical and emotional and spiritual experience, and then you are supposed to assimilate into some sort of new existence.

There are so many conflicting emotions.

We are thinking forward to moving and setting up a new home and life.

We are thinking backward in processing memories, experiences, and moments we shared with Jake in our home.

I am seeing things with new eyes and feel an appreciation for the most simple of pleasures.

I sat outside with Tommy the other day for two hours. We put our feet in the pool, turned on the hose and splashed in puddles in the grass, and went on a walk as he rode his tricycle. I hadn't done that with such abandon in years.

I've also been able to make some plans for the summer. Two months in advance. I hardly know how to handle that kind of freedom.

I have picked up my kids from school and made their lunches. I went to book club and met up with friends. I feel keenly the difference in living without the weight of disease constantly pressing down upon us.

At the same time I have lost a sense of purpose.

Caring for Jake, even before it got more intense, was what I did with many hours of my day. It was my joy and my pleasure and I would have done it forever.

I am profoundly feeling that loss.

The kids and I miss Jake in our daily interactions. At the dinner table. At recitals. For school events. Watching sports. During church. At bedtime.

I find myself wishing for him at every turn. Extra hands to help at night. His sympathy when I'm having a hard day. His hugs and kisses. His knowing glance.

Little things trigger the reality of him not being here. A letter stating that he'd missed his dental appointment and needed to reschedule. His iPhone. His keys. His unused toothbrush on the bathroom counter.

However, again and again I am so grateful that we had time to prepare.

That is not always the case.

Many people die with no notice and their deaths leave a shocking, gaping hole.

Living with a terminal disease is no picnic either. The possibility of death is always looming, threatening to darken even the brightest day.

Jake had moments where he wished he'd just been in a terrible car accident and taken in an instant. And he had moments where he would endure any physical suffering to see another day.

I have been so grateful for our preparation.

Nothing was off the table, and with my mind that goes to the worst case scenario and mouth that must verbalize what I am thinking, Jake heard it all.

There was nothing we would not talk about. Those were terrible, difficult conversations, but today when he is gone I am so grateful that we had them.

Together.

I draw on the things we talked about every single day.

Although he can't physically be with me, I feel that through our preparation I can still rely on his strength, direction, and encouragement.

And as specific Jake thoughts come to mind I know that through the Holy Ghost he is still able to communicate with me.

Parents

Yesterday my in-laws left after living here in Arizona for over two months.

I don't think I can even begin to thank them for what they did.

I can't imagine how hard it is to lose a child at any age. It is not the natural course of things. Parents should get to die first.

Over Jacob's illness both sets of our parents have sacrificed much to help us, take care of us, comfort us, encourage us, and carry us through the rigors of his disease. They were the ones we called first in the middle of the night. They lifted us and carried us and bore with us every step of the way.

It was not always easy.

But they never gave up and were consistently there to help and encourage us and our children.

Jacob and I had discussed how, if and when his condition deteriorated and he was going to die, we would ask his parents to come and help us. He is their son and they'd expressed that they would like to be here when that time came.

They were able to rent a small furnished apartment just down the street from our home, but were here from sun up to sun down helping in any way we needed.

I don't think I can even begin to list what they did. Just think of all of the tasks it takes to care for four young children and manage a household under normal circumstances, with the added burden of losing a beloved child, and you will begin to understand the great service they gave to us.

I will love them forever. I can never repay them, but hope they know that their sacrifice will stand until the end of time as a testament to their callings as mother and father, grandmother and grandfather.

President Faust stated, "To be a good father and mother requires that parents defer many of their own needs and desires in favor of the needs of their children. As a consequence of this sacrifice, conscientious parents develop a nobility of character and learn to put into practice the selfless truths taught by the Savior Himself."

I am grateful for our two sets of parents and all that they have done, and will continue to do, in helping, blessing, encouraging and loving our family. And I am grateful to a loving Father in Heaven who will mercifully bless the lives of our children through these four amazing individuals.

12 years

To go from this

 

to this


in a dozen years is not at all what we thought would happen. No one plans for this. 

On May 8, 2004 the sun was shining and there was nothing standing in the way of me and Jake living a wonderful and full life together.

And on May 8, 2016 I cried bitter tears alone as my body, heart and soul ached for my Jacob.

I miss him so much.

I will miss him for as long as I live.

It is incredibly hard to spend your anniversary without your spouse.

For me and Jake, our anniversary was a day we celebrated us and stopped to reflect on our previous years of marriage and remember highlights and lessons we'd learned.

We decided early on not to buy presents for each other. Instead, every year we would pick out a new fancy restaurant and treat each other to a great meal and night out. A few years we even stayed overnight at a resort hotel in town.

I loved all of those celebrations with him.

It would be dishonest to say that the day was totally horrible. With it being Mother's Day, there was also a sweetness tinting the sorrow as my kids gave me homemade cards and presents expressing their love for me and gratitude that I am their mom. It made me feel more grateful than ever that I have these children who need me.

My sister was in town and was so good to me. She had the kids help make me breakfast in bed, a tradition that Jake had been doing for years. She also made the sweetest book, with notes and pictures collected from our siblings and parents sharing their observations about our marriage and my motherhood. Their assessments were very generous and kind and I spent an hour crying and reading their loving words. That Claire would have thought of making a book in advance and gone to the effort to put it together was so meaningful to me.

Matt and Jessica (Jake's brother and our sister in law) came over in the evening and helped Claire make and clean up a delicious chicken alfredo dinner. Jess listened and hugged me while I cried and Matt was so compassionate. I am grateful for them being here and for how they continue to stay with me through these lonely days.

I cry-talked to both of our parents that night and they listened with so much love and concern. I know they wish they could take it away.

But they can't.

No one can.

That is what I am learning about grief.

It is a lonely, solitary, individual process that you must go through alone. It is part of gaining experience. 

It's just that sometimes experience sucks.

I finally fell asleep and put an end to that difficult day.

Monday, May 9, dawned bright and lovely as more than a dozen friends came over to work for 3+ hours deep cleaning my house. I was preparing to list it later in the week and these wonderful women worked like slaves getting our house clean down to the very minute details. I was filled with gratitude for their service and love. It was a salve on my aching heart.

And later in the day Lauren brought in the mail. She came to me with a letter, with this letter, asking if it was really from who she thought it was from.

It was.

With tears streaming down my face I read out loud words of condolence, love, and peace from one who has always been so very mindful of widows.

I have learned through these years this truth: Heavenly Father cannot always compensate in this life. But the help He sends is always enough.

My talk from Jake's funeral

Love.

I have felt so much love throughout the last 5 days. Our kids have felt so much love. Our parents have felt to much love. Our siblings and their families have felt so much love.

Funerals are a bitter sweet time. Bitter as you face the reality of your loved ones death, but sweet as you are surrounded, embraced and upheld from the love of so many people.

Thank you for your love. Thank you for your love.

I wanted to share the talk I gave at Jake's funeral in Phoenix. I knew that I could only give it once, and even that was nothing short of a miracle. I was honored to speak about him and grateful for the Lord who sustained me through it.

Here is what I said:

What a sight. I am humbled to see so many people who love, admire and remember Jake. Thank you for being here.

I want to begin by expressing our sincere thanks to each one of you. You, as family and friends have walked a hard road with us these last two years, but have never shied away or forsaken us. We have felt God’s love through you a thousand times over.

I can’t tell you how many times Jake prayed for you. In every prayer he offered he asked Heavenly Father to bless all those who are praying for him, with their needs and in their extremity. I hope you have felt of our Father’s and our Savior’s love. There is no way for us to repay what you have done, but one thought did occur to us last month. On tables at the doors before you leave there are copies of The Book ofMormon: Another testament of Jesus Christ. Inside we’ve placed a picture of our family along with this scripture from second Nephi, “But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love.” We would love for each individual or family present to take a copy home with you.

I am grateful to stand here today to speak to you about Jake. As the one who knows him best, we both felt that if I could manage it I should speak and so I pray for the sustaining power of the Holy Ghost.

Luke chapter 2 verse 52 is the only verse of scripture that speaks about the Savior’s life from the time that he was 12 years old until he started his mortal ministry at 30. To describe the intervening 18 years there is only one verse and it reads, “And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.”

Jesus Increased.  In Wisdom. In Stature.  In Favor with God.  In Favor with man.

While on Jake’s mission to Madrid, Spain, Harriet Uchtdorf, wife of apostle Dieter F. Uchtdorf spoke about this scripture as a guide for living life. Her talk profoundly influenced Jake.

From this scripture he developed what he always called the “balancing wheel”- a tool for developing himself in four important aspects of life. The first is wisdom or intellectual, educational and career pursuits. The second is stature or physical fitness, nutrition, and caring for his body. The third is favor with man or developing and fostering relationships with and serving family, friends, and those around him.  The fourth is favor with God or spiritual development, obedience to the commandments and nurturing his faith. Jake called these categories intellectual, physical, social and spiritual.

He used the balancing wheel to set goals from his mission on and taught it to me from the earliest days of our marriage. About monthly, sometimes more, sometimes less Jake and I would sit down and do the balancing wheel. He would get out a blank piece of paper, trace a mixing bowl so he could draw a perfect circle, and then divide the circle into four sections. He would write one of these categories in each quarter segment along with two or three bullet points for each of us. You can see one of his individual handwritten graphs on the inside of your program.

We would then spend some time talking about how we felt we were doing in each category. These were some of my favorite discussions with him. We would assess ourselves intellectually, physically, socially and spiritually and make a few goals for improvement. Sometimes it required shifting focus from one category to another. Sometimes it required a conscious investment of time in a specific goal. But mostly it was just a way for us to gauge if we were progressing and to get back on track. I can say that Jake never rubbed my face in my shortcomings or gave me suggestions for improvement. He was ever supporting me, encouraging me and giving me the benefit of the doubt. He is so kind.

Then Jake would usually tape the paper to our bathroom mirror or keep it on his nightstand so that we could remember our goals. These were simple things that we could accomplish that month. As you can see in the graphic from 2010, Jake set physical goals to go to sleep by 10:30 pm, exercise a half hour a day, and maybe try his Dad’s low carb diet. He set social goals to take me out on a date and to do something with our friends the Gardiners. He set intellectual goals to record his time every day at work, not look at the internet at work, and read a book at night. And he set spiritual goals to do something each day for his calling (a church service opportunity) in the Elders Quorum and “dive” into the scriptures for 30 minutes daily.

Most of you probably never knew that Jake used the balancing wheel to guide his life in this way, but you probably saw the fruits of his consistent efforts at self-improvement and growth. I know that I did. In fact, it was often in times when things felt off and life was stressful that Jake would pull out a blank sheet of paper and suggest that we revisit the balancing wheel. He used this exercise to center himself, to find his focus, to live a Christ-like life.

I know that many of you were here ten months ago when Jake and I stood at this pulpit to give a fireside about the lessons we’d learned since his diagnosis. If you remember, Jake said and I quote,

“I’d like to share some things that I’ve learned in four areas that have become critically important to me. They are (1) caring for your physical body, (2) preparing financially, (3) maintaining a support network, and (4) finding strength in God. I hope that these lessons will help everyone here, no matter what stage of life you are in to think about your priorities.” End quote.

These four areas were not new to Jake. They are the balancing wheel- increasing in wisdom, stature, and in favor with God and man that he had put into practice years before. But their importance was intensely magnified when he knew that he only had a short time to live.

The message of Jake’s life was not defined by his cancer, but it was refined, honed, and focused by his disease. He knew what was most important in life. Jake learned that the scripture in Luke is not just talking about the Savior. It is talking about us. How are we using our time, our daily breath, to become like Him? Are we increasing?

I witness that Jesus is our perfect example. He did not come to earth knowing everything. He had to learn. He had to experience. He had to grow. He had to increase. So did Jake. And so do we.

I testify of the reality of the risen Christ. I know that He lives. I know it. I know that Jake continues to exist. I feel his calming presence and strength. His thoughts have flooded my mind this week.  I witness that, as Amulek taught in the Book of Mormon, one day Jake’s “mortal body [will be] raised to an immortal body, that is from death…unto life, that [he] can die no more; [his] spirit uniting with [his] body, never to be divided; thus the whole becoming spiritual and immortal, that [he] can no more see corruption.”

I always told Jake that if I had known all along that this was our future, I still would have married him. Nothing has brought me more joy than being his wife and having Lauren, Ellie, Ada and Tommy together. And there is nothing I want more than to be his companion forever, bound through the sealing covenants we made in the temple. I am profoundly grateful for my husband who taught me how to live like Jesus. And I hope to spend all of my days increasing until I become like them.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.