tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64519202115439176022024-02-18T12:23:44.193-07:00Steven Battles CancerSteven was nine years old when he was diagnosed with osteosarcoma in February 2011. His knee was amputated in a procedure known as Van Ness Rotationplasty. He is determined to beat cancer.Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.comBlogger236125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-1050554949235515832024-02-16T15:45:00.002-07:002024-02-16T15:45:56.621-07:0013 Years ago today....<p>I haven't posted in so long! Today I talked to a mom whose son will have rotationplasty surgery in a few weeks. It struck me that it was the anniversary of the day we discovered Steven's cancer 13 years ago. I also haven't written much about Steven in a long time and wanted to reassure anyone who ever happens across this blog that he is doing well and living his best life. He returned home from a mission in the Baltics and is now studying at BYU. He continues to have a great attitude and doesn't seem to be afraid of cancer hindered by its effects. </p><p>How I wish I could have seen this day 13 years ago when it felt like my world was falling apart. That would have changed things for sure--to take away the fear and anxiety that gnawed away at me for so many years and even sometimes still creeps in. But then would I have learned what I did? </p><p>I don't know if I can express or even identify all the lessons I've learned. One thing is for sure--God is there and He is good. Even if things don't work out how you hope, there is light and goodness around the corner. I miss my baby and my sister every day, but the hole in my heart with those losses are now filled with something else that I can't quite describe, but it is good. </p>Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-54559137738911782182020-04-26T15:35:00.000-06:002020-04-26T15:49:35.001-06:00The latest on StevenAs graduation and big life changes are on the horizon for Steven, it seems only right that I should update you on the latest and possibly wrap up the cancer battling portion of this blog. <br />
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In December, Steven went in for his annual exams and ready with missionary paperwork for the doctors to fill out for him to serve a full time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His doctors both felt like his health was good enough to be recommended without any medical limitations (short of possible maintenance to his prosthetic) and told him he could come see them one last time when he gets home in two years for a final exam that would end the ten years of screening and follow up. This was such great news!</div>
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Steven couldn't send the papers in until the end of February, but in the meantime, life was good and happening for him as a senior. He was having an epic year with friends and accomplishments. He found out he made it into BYU and competed in the Sterling Scholar competition. Here is a video showing what he called "the most epic moment of his life," with his church basketball team:</div>
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He practiced hard to audition for and then perform as a soloist at Skyline's concerto night. That was a goal he had been working on for years and we were so proud of him for his accomplishment and so incredibly grateful to everyone who has had a hand in his success in music--his teachers, family, friends. I often think of <a href="https://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2012/11/my-angel-baby.html">the gift of the piano that was given us by so many loving people at such a difficult time.</a> Music has been such a gift for him as well. This felt like the intersection of so much hope and healing. Looking back, we feel so lucky that the night was able to happen at the end of February before everything was cancelled and shut down. <a href="https://vimeo.com/400019601/9ff7086e74">Here is a link to that performance. </a></div>
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The Sunday after concerto night, Steven's mission papers got submitted. We waited eagerly to hear the news. On March 10th, the email came that his call was ready. We scrambled to clean up the house and bake cookies and let everyone know they could come over and watch him open his call. We let everyone guess where they thought he would go. I had been telling him for years that he would almost certainly serve state side because of his cancer. Imagine our shock and surprise and his absolute delight when he read that he would be called to the Baltic Mission (Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia and Belarus) teaching in the Russian language! He and his friends had formed a group of Russian Hardbass fans and bought themselves matching tracksuits. So when he read "Russian," all "the Boyz" went crazy. He was to report to the Provo Missionary Training Center on July 22nd. </div>
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The amount of excitement this created for him has been palpable. He has started studying Russian in his free time and learns everything he can get his hands on about the countries and people he will be serving.</div>
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But oh how that feels like a lifetime ago! How would we have known that our little call opening party would be the last big gathering we would have in....who knows? We would never have anticipated watching so many friends and family members serving missions all over the world being flown home for the pandemic. It seems crazy to think of how naive we were when things would unfold in the days and weeks and make the future seem so uncertain.</div>
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And that is where we are now--like all of you, facing an uncertain future. School has been changed to at-home learning. We worship every Sunday in our home now--and it has been that way since the week of his call. His graduation will likely be cancelled or postponed. The MTC experience could very well take place here at home. He has a few more days to decide if he will try to go as planned or wait a year. He feels strongly that he wants to serve now, but what that will look like, we don't know.</div>
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Uncertainty is one thing we have dealt with, so it should be familiar. I think back to when Steven was first diagnosed with cancer and I often wondered if he would survive to see his high school graduation or if he would even be able to serve a mission. As I remember that, I can only feel grateful that we have good health and we have each other. I spent so much of my emotional energy worrying about his future and now that feels silly seeing how well things have turned out. And I am faced again with more uncertainly--for all of us--for the world. </div>
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I try to remember the lessons I've learned about the fruitlessness of worry, but it is difficult. There are so many things we have no control over, I am trying to come to peace with that and remember the most important lesson I learned from our cancer lessons and that is to be grateful and appreciate the now. Also, how important kindness is to get through hard times. </div>
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Thank you to all of you who have show kindness to us through the past almost 10 years of his cancer battle. And thank you for showing kindness to all those around you now. It is the way through, I'm sure of it. </div>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-22102761585904517692019-02-05T19:21:00.002-07:002019-02-05T19:22:14.394-07:00Another year come and gone...And all is well. I don't think of this blog much, which is a good thing. Life is going along swimmingly for Steven. His annual check up turned out well, although this year has given us a taste of how hard it is to get questionable results and to have to wait to see how things turn out. It's a long story, but the end is that everything looks great for Steven. Sometimes doctors are very careful (rightfully so) and sometimes you realize that you're still susceptible to anxiety--it can come in a flash.<br />
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Thankfully, our anxieties about cancer were in vain and we have a healthy young man to watch in amazement. He just got back from his Unlimbited Ski camp where he spent the week skiing with amputee friends and loving every minute of it (except saying goodbye). He is now 17 and this year has brought him his first job, first date, and his driver's license. He has a rigorous line up of AP classes and is one of our ward organists. He is a fun kid to have around and inspires us all with his dedication to use his time well. I can't express how grateful we are to have him around.<br />
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-56727504825814621382018-01-15T09:35:00.002-07:002018-01-15T09:35:50.811-07:00A birthday, a check-up and the gift of a year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You may already know that the American Cancer Society is the "Official Sponsor of Birthdays." This week, as we celebrated Steven's 16th birthday, I couldn't help but remember a time six years ago during his treatments when I wondered if he'd ever make it to this age. <br />
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Along with the birthday celebrations this week, Steven also had his annual check up. Scans are over, and now the docs just do a chest x-ray and some blood work. Everything looked great--he is the picture of health. A perfect birthday present, but more than that, it feels like another year and most likely a whole life. Is there a better gift? <br />
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As we get a little farther out from the experience, I find myself with answers that I couldn't have when we were in the trenches. The puzzle is only sort of coming together, but this week it felt more clear than ever. Here are some of the pieces:<br />
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Steven's pediatrician is retiring. As we received the invitation to his retirement party this month, it struck me how lucky we were to have him as our doctor. He found the cancer on our first appointment with him. I have read many osteosarcoma blogs and talked to other moms--a first time diagnosis is not the norm. I thank the Lord for Dr. Schmidt and his knowledge and wisdom and for landing us in his practice.<br />
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Because Dr. Schmidt referred us to the Oncology clinic at Primary Children's, and because Dr. Jones was on call, we were then assigned Dr. Jones for Steven's orthopedic surgeon. We have long hailed Dr. Jones as our hero, but when we met with him this week, I started to ask him about how many of these surgeries he has done. After some discussion, we learned that had Steven been referred to the other doctor in the practice, he would not have had the option to do rotationplasty because of the location of the cancer. But Dr. Jones was willing and helpful and experienced.<br />
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I don't know what would have happened had we picked something other than rotationplasty. But earlier this year, we were having a family home evening about prayer. I asked the kids if they had ever had a prayer answered. Steven told us a story he never had before. He said that one night after he had prayed about what kind of surgery to have, he had a very clear dream that told him that he was to do the rotationplasty. I hadn't known about his dream. I did know that once he made up his mind, he wouldn't consider any other option or look back. Even during the following year, when he couldn't walk and therapy was painful and I doubted our decision, he never did. <br />
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And look at him now! He is thriving and active and happy and has no problem with the fact that he is an amputee--in fact, it is part of him and he (usually) loves the distinction. He loves the group of amputees that he goes to ski camp with every year and loves the people at Shriners where he gets the leg made.<br />
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Yesterday morning, as I was reading the Book of Mormon, I was reading about Christ in the Americas, healing the sick and lame. The thought crossed my mind of how nice it would be to have Christ come and heal Steven's leg. And then all these pieces to the story hit my mind at once, and I realized that Christ had a hand in Steven's recovery and healing. He was born in a time of modern medicine and put in a place and time where he got the treatment he did.<br />
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And according to the doctors, he is essentially healed. They have no reason to think that cancer could come back at this point. They will continue checking him for a couple more years. But the chances of him getting cancer now are so slim. And that is a lovely feeling, let me tell you. <br />
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Six years ago, I could not have foreseen a time when I could lay aside the anxiety and be so thrilled about the future. At the time, I guarded my hopes for what Steven could do and become. This feeling of confidence in the future is a new and welcome feeling. At the same time, I try to make peace with the fact that not all families have such great outcomes.<br />
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I'm sorry this is so long. I know--I don't blog for months or years at a time, and now it's too much. But so many of you have followed his story and don't get to see the great strides he has made through the years. I wish I had some video of him walking and running, but I will post some pictures from the last year. You can see that it has been a full year--one we will never forget. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is Steven after he dropped off the blankets that he did with his project about a year ago.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For spring break, we went to Arizona with Rob's mom and went to the Grand Canyon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This summer, we went to Europe to visit my parents and see some sights! This is in Switzerland.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVvW4ecwoYHEAMTmIU9preX9pb4j4sFXQlRDyiZI20kjaE1NYYdUqd5JEW3dzlMlTMtL7JSKlz9mQp6EuBqGrWV3-ho6C4bHTO0_4BJ4EAwKYpnSV7ZyWt5h9T5q1SKhCYk71XdKQF-tk/s1600/DSC04642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVvW4ecwoYHEAMTmIU9preX9pb4j4sFXQlRDyiZI20kjaE1NYYdUqd5JEW3dzlMlTMtL7JSKlz9mQp6EuBqGrWV3-ho6C4bHTO0_4BJ4EAwKYpnSV7ZyWt5h9T5q1SKhCYk71XdKQF-tk/s640/DSC04642.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids with my parents in the Alps.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paris</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A layover in New York--this is at the Statue of Liberty.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCVlJb2KTHJNOtv3QBowZ-gIJ91KJCBMe3q8o4Y1Kx1sRqTa4v0u-2ukZ6LkxYwYJGt4rtq52YVN7mmbC1Fj0c7iWtEWn_GFgObXtw1xYcHkv4Tgj4MCnbKIrt8ALFi-sClidaICfqDCH/s1600/draper+jam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCVlJb2KTHJNOtv3QBowZ-gIJ91KJCBMe3q8o4Y1Kx1sRqTa4v0u-2ukZ6LkxYwYJGt4rtq52YVN7mmbC1Fj0c7iWtEWn_GFgObXtw1xYcHkv4Tgj4MCnbKIrt8ALFi-sClidaICfqDCH/s400/draper+jam.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven with his band, the Weakest Link.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven earned his Eagle rank this year.</td></tr>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-35646901004532229682017-05-19T07:39:00.000-06:002017-05-19T07:40:30.911-06:00A note to my nephew: one cancer survivor to another<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">
It is hard to believe it's been two years since we lost Alisa. Every May sunrise and flower seems to scream her name to me. I miss her more than I can express.</div>
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Last year, about this time, my sister, Anne, was hard at work going through Alisa's things to help Josh get his house ready to sell. She found a rough note Alisa had started for Steven on the day he finished treatment. I don't know if she meant to do a blog post or write him a letter--we never saw a finished version. But to have this come in the mail, felt like a message from heaven. Steven gave me permission to share it with you.</div>
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<i>Dear Steven,</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>Today you rang the bell.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>Day of freedom.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>Today I cry because I am so proud of you. You have been so strong. People ask us, "how could you do that?! I don't know if I could have done that!" You are amazing and yes we are. But....what we know, they don't. They are amazing, everyone has the spirit of survivor in them and they <u>could</u> handle bad things. Maybe we show them what they could do--and it is a good reminder of the power we have over obstacles.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>Steven, do you know "there are no bad days in survivorship?" Well, maybe some. But not many. I have never.</i></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">
<i><br /></i><i>A bad day? Yeah, I remember what that is. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>To the roll call of life, we answer HERE!</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>What a blessing.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i><i>Loss? We know it. </i></div>
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And that is all. I don't know if it was missing a page or what. I wonder how she would have finished it. But in a way I know because she lived it. Despite all her losses, she answered "HERE!!" every day she had. I've got to figure out how to do that too.</div>
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<div style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;">
Alisa, I sure wish you were here still. But until you are, thanks for living your life as you did--it is a constant inspiration to me. You and Steven both remind me of the strength that lies within us.<br />
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-87528912664778673562017-01-13T13:34:00.000-07:002017-01-13T13:34:00.458-07:00It's official--5 years cancer free post treatment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been looking forward to such a blog title for a long time and here we are. Yay! I am happy that this was our outcome, grateful for all the years we've had with Steven and for the many more to come, and humbled when I think of other cancer friends who weren't so lucky.<br />
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Yesterday we had the appointments. Steven didn't have a scan as normal, they just took an x-ray of his chest. They do this because they are less worried about recurrence at this point and it reduces the amount of radiation he is exposed to. So I don't know if I can officially call these scans, but his blood work was totally normal and his lungs were clear. We have every reason to hope for Steven to live a long life, cancer free.<br />
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We will continue these check-ups annually until he is 19 or 20, which will be 10 years out from treatment. Hopefully we will feel as peaceful about those future check ups as we did yesterday. It was a good day.<br />
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And because I don't post so often, let me update you on Steven. He's getting tall--taller than me. He's grown 6 centimeters since his appointment last year. He's active and happy and will be getting a learners permit to drive soon. (Yikes!) He love music-- he plays the piano and the tuba, piano being one of his main pursuits. He loves to read. He plays ultimate frisbee with the high school club and just started church basketball. He recently did his Eagle Scout project, a blanket drive for his favorite charity, Shriner's hospital. We are in the process of getting him a new leg, this time the foot is very different--we'll post some pictures when that's done.<br />
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So happy times for Steven and I can also say that I am doing well. I have felt better emotionally in the last few months than I have in years. I finally feel like I am coming out of some of the sadness and anxiety that have come along with the circumstances of recent years. I'm not perfect by any means, and I will probably never quite go back to those happy care free years before cancer, but I also feel like I am strong enough to weather (almost) any storm life throws at me. Especially because I know I have such great support from friends, family, neighbors and God. <br />
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Thank you, everyone, for cheering us on! <br />
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Some pictures of Steven from the past year:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDmwuPFlGLndIFGiDbSXq9q29POfeHqvdOrsw7I7bgJH65828R7dpVh_sCqq1G0Yi-K2jdol-6BjmgvLm19D7gdU2ONQB1IQuzuYViyvdcZ1T3WAdU3-aQJWKtOnHK3EhTmQRV0HbyU6V/s1600/IMG_3462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDmwuPFlGLndIFGiDbSXq9q29POfeHqvdOrsw7I7bgJH65828R7dpVh_sCqq1G0Yi-K2jdol-6BjmgvLm19D7gdU2ONQB1IQuzuYViyvdcZ1T3WAdU3-aQJWKtOnHK3EhTmQRV0HbyU6V/s400/IMG_3462.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven with his soccer team.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMud-_m20uRbtM4fssrlllVyZM_ncxE05LA035lPNLs7FNpvjDpmHP7ionKOiyBieWnk3Hk0zt6veUvAMCersuVKYN2yNLLIGtkK4dJ5PB5Bo7OEwc_WRJ4TbLc6fhh6fDSH-Jy5OOuEHS/s1600/DSC01518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMud-_m20uRbtM4fssrlllVyZM_ncxE05LA035lPNLs7FNpvjDpmHP7ionKOiyBieWnk3Hk0zt6veUvAMCersuVKYN2yNLLIGtkK4dJ5PB5Bo7OEwc_WRJ4TbLc6fhh6fDSH-Jy5OOuEHS/s640/DSC01518.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Arches National Park.<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB1c4DX5vAxKL2NdlwJTxnt4CXAL8Bdxd1Rh8ktzC6VSFbHcXGM9l5zmSzltBQtfqxKHvcyzF1M6u318Wk_eY763xHpO6fehJ_LL69iitEboDIhe2dhv77aflxbIWkPZ6AM2145k6v-Lt/s1600/DSC01588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCB1c4DX5vAxKL2NdlwJTxnt4CXAL8Bdxd1Rh8ktzC6VSFbHcXGM9l5zmSzltBQtfqxKHvcyzF1M6u318Wk_eY763xHpO6fehJ_LL69iitEboDIhe2dhv77aflxbIWkPZ6AM2145k6v-Lt/s640/DSC01588.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Mesa Verde National Park (this was the Balcony House. I heard someone behind me who was nervous about climbing the ladder say, "If he can do it with one leg, so can I." It tends to be a theme surrounding Steven.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven and Andrew at Yellowstone, Steven with his guidebook, ready to advise us with geyser info.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids at Grand Prismatic Spring in Yellowstone.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven got his cycling merit badge this year and has loved his bike. Here they are with some cousins in Grand Teton National Park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwFs91zoqwiZckwxtEu1_WjKSkF51pmD3da9_ojdwB5hzNuumxzC3mSR8oBNKePpef8jdDMeigtv5J2jN48LDwFyEiYrEKnInEKXZJULVWv1d_pwJRAVx8ZrAjMZzLPBfsa01pbKryZq2/s1600/DSC02760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwFs91zoqwiZckwxtEu1_WjKSkF51pmD3da9_ojdwB5hzNuumxzC3mSR8oBNKePpef8jdDMeigtv5J2jN48LDwFyEiYrEKnInEKXZJULVWv1d_pwJRAVx8ZrAjMZzLPBfsa01pbKryZq2/s400/DSC02760.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven did his Eagle Project this month and collected and made fleece blankets for patients at Shriners Hospital. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDbDTiQk9ccybYo8BDWHvlYTxlcP1NdV9B4DVRdTKED6km8IcGnlnA5_j9AmBHFtY4GznazdbZuLJH2oaxliUm8j21ylLG-oGg_Lv4QRm62Yp_aN651a8mK1zVWBKqz4iDtThYmIwz9lu/s1600/DSC02783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDbDTiQk9ccybYo8BDWHvlYTxlcP1NdV9B4DVRdTKED6km8IcGnlnA5_j9AmBHFtY4GznazdbZuLJH2oaxliUm8j21ylLG-oGg_Lv4QRm62Yp_aN651a8mK1zVWBKqz4iDtThYmIwz9lu/s640/DSC02783.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture was taken Wednesday as we work on the new leg for Steven. This is the foot--he is so excited<br /></td></tr>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-16959246597417812752016-12-25T06:15:00.000-07:002016-12-25T09:47:39.287-07:00Christmas past<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The other day I was thinking about my girls and how excited they are for Christmas. A flood of emotion swept over me as I considered the joyful holidays (and the hard ones) that Alisa and I shared together. Sometimes I watch my girls together and I am transported to my childhood and to my relationship with my little sister.<br />
<br />
We were little girls and it was the era of the Cabbage Patch dolls. Every little girl wanted one--and no one more than Alisa and I. But stores were sold out and so all the hoping guaranteed nothing. We had no hope of Santa bringing them because Dad had been quite frank with us about how the Santa thing worked.<br />
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One day, a few weeks before Christmas, we made a hopeful discovery. In the closet, under the stairs, we found two Cabbage Patch-shaped boxes wrapped in one layer of white tissue paper. We could make out the words on the box. We were ecstatic. I don't know if we managed to hide the joy we had, knowing there were dolls for us. If my parents didn't know we had found our Christmas present, it was because of the chaos of the season and four or five wild kids. But it was a secret we shared in hopes and giggles, especially as we went to bed each night.<br />
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My aunt Laurie had worked the miracle--she worked at a store and had access to inventory before it went on the shelves. I love my mom for getting us those dolls, but I know we owe it to my Aunt Laurie, and probably my grandma too, who seemed to fund those tight Christmases.<br />
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I don't remember that Christmas morning very vividly, but the hours and hours that Alisa and I played with those dolls are some of the happiest memories of my childhood. Not all is perfect--my doll was cuter than hers and I sometimes rubbed it in. But those dolls were real to us. We took them to the dinner table, and bought them Christmas presents, and took their portraits (with a Christmas present of a future year). Mine was Susie, olive skinned and brown hair. Alisa's was Gaylinda, a redhead like Anne of Green Gables. They were our children. We had adoption certificates to prove it!<br />
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Christmas without my little sister is painful this year. I have felt her absence deeply. As we drove around yesterday, I put in the movie,<i> Little Women</i>, for my kids to watch. I've seen that movie more times than I can count. I have it practically memorized. Alisa and I loved that movie and in some ways we lived it.<br />
<br />
My very favorite scene of all is when they give Beth the piano. It struck me as we watched it yesterday how Alisa tried to recreate that gift when she organized the piano gift when Daniel died. I know it wasn't just<i> Little Women</i> that drove her to do such a thing, but the romance about gifting your sick sister with a beautiful piano was not lost on Alisa. I felt sure of that last night.<br />
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This morning as I wait to surprise my kids with my carefully thought out gifts, I think of my parents and how they must have been almost as excited as Alisa and I were about the Cabbage Patch dolls. I think of Alisa and her excitement to reveal the piano. And I think of Heavenly Father, who is the perfect gift giver. I have no doubt that one of the greatest gifts he ever gave me was a little sister so close in age and so close to my heart. And I thank Him for the even greater gift of His son, Jesus Christ, and his atonement that makes it possible for me to be with her forever someday.<br />
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-40613198363499456862016-06-27T16:37:00.000-06:002016-06-27T16:37:13.441-06:00Some pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My sisters helped me take some pictures last night and I mentioned I wanted to post some pictures showing Steven taller than me, so here we go. I forget because I see him everyday how much he is growing, but then we'll see an old friend who is blown away by how much he's grown in the past few years.</div>
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After losing my sister and father-in-law, I've been keenly aware of how important it is to take pictures. And then I learned another hard lesson--you need to back them up. A month or so ago, our hard drive crashed and most of our pictures and videos were lost. I mainly have anything I've ever put on a blog or printed off. We still have some hope to recover them, but there is no guarantee it will happen. So BACK UP YOUR PICTURES! Just a little reminder.</div>
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Summer is going well here--nothing major to report. My kids are growing up fast and every day flies by. I continue to work on enjoying the moment. </div>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-52152786619778680582016-05-19T22:50:00.001-06:002016-05-19T22:50:56.739-06:00AnniversaryI've started 20 blog posts in the past few months. I've got a backlog of them: from Steven's new leg, to soccer videos, to wedding pictures and thoughts on that, to a picture of Steven taller than me, and even some thoughts on being five years out from Steven's diagnosis and surgery. I feel like bragging about the many great things Steven is doing, and showing off his successes from my little blog. I've had thoughts on my father-in-law's passing and the grief my kids seem destined to know from a young age. My heart is really so full, I'm sorry I've been so silent. There is so much good going on in our lives, we truly have so much to be grateful for.<br />
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But I will post today because it has been a year since Alisa passed away. So much has happened in that time, it feels so unreal that it has only been a year, and yet it feels like a lifetime for how much I've missed her. <br />
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I have had so many moments where the only thing that feels right is to call her up and ask how things are going. I've had day dreams (and actual dreams) of doing that--if I don't have exact conversations memorized, at least I know what she would say. I seem to know how she would respond to a question or problem. <br />
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I'm not sure all of my blog readers know that her husband, Josh, <a href="http://loslintonboys.blogspot.com/">got remarried</a> in March. His new wife is lovely and so much good will come of their marriage. But there has been a lot of change as they start their new life together. On the day of their wedding, I felt such polar feelings of happiness and loss. I kept going back to the day Josh called to tell me he was dating her. As he described her situation and how they met, I had a very distinct feeling that Alisa had a hand in picking Katie for Josh and her boys. But even still, it has not been easy. Alisa often spoke about how sadness and happiness could happen simultaneously, and this has been an example of that for me.<br />
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My sisters and Josh's mom have been helping pack up the house and today I just felt I needed to be there, to kind of say some last goodbyes to the places and things that are so full of memories. <br />
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I was boxing up some journals and scrapbooks and I took a peek. It took me back to the Alisa I knew when we were little who would defend all animals and love all her friends. I remembered the fun times she had in college and her faithful letters to Josh when he was on his mission. I read some of the love notes from her kids and some of the love notes to her kids. I found notes on her cancer research and letters from her adoring friends. <br />
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My favorite find was a little notebook full of ideas, I believe for a book she wanted to write. It's a very loose compilation with ideas she's gathered from life. One thought that struck me was under the subtitle "Cancer." She wrote, "Your heart has to break first, in order for it to be opened."<br />
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It's hard for me to tell if my heart has been opened yet, but I know for sure it has been broken. <br />
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I miss Alisa every day. I know I'm not alone. Her grave today was covered in flowers and my phone has been lit up with texts from her friends expressing their love for her and their thoughts of me. I very much look forward to the day I will see her again. Until then, I hope I can live a life half so brilliant as hers was. The brightness of her life still shines into mine, and I know it will forever. <br />
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I love you Alisa!<br />
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-79256678343757662192016-03-10T14:32:00.002-07:002016-03-10T14:36:40.253-07:00A beautiful lifeSaturday morning we got a devastating call from Rob's mom: his dad had passed away in the night. They were in California, had spent a lovely week at Disneyland with Rob's brother and his family. He hadn't complained of any health problems during the trip and had no known health problems so this came as a huge shock to all of us. <br />
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His passing has brought to my mind a wealth of memories shared with him. He has been such a huge part of holidays, birthdays, vacations, home projects, and really just our life. He was a humble man with a very big heart. Steven was named after him and as a little kid, he idolized his grandpa. I hope that his biggest aspiration is to be as kind and good as his namesake. <br />
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I have so many pictures of him and my kids. I keep thinking about Alisa's admonition to take more pictures. I'm glad I have as many as I do. I wish I could take more. Here are a few that tell a little about him as a grandpa. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbyALcrsT7Z6t1RMRLF5efH9i6vnMtFTFirIBk0RYbyqfZN6ber9JOmyP_O29sUz4j1YT2hq4bRB0T-LxWvBI4sYOpKn5vlCbWtQhEE5ELs5vqj4qkpzGLW7KXbNIbPFHP1QgquWZTDtTH/s1600/341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbyALcrsT7Z6t1RMRLF5efH9i6vnMtFTFirIBk0RYbyqfZN6ber9JOmyP_O29sUz4j1YT2hq4bRB0T-LxWvBI4sYOpKn5vlCbWtQhEE5ELs5vqj4qkpzGLW7KXbNIbPFHP1QgquWZTDtTH/s320/341.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is one of my favorites: Steven and Grandpa on an evening hike at Yellowstone. <br />
Grandpa loved Yellowstone as much as Steven and they went there together three times. Steven has <br />
spent some time this week planning another Yellowstone trip.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01vcbDJBf_q4jAgVVH1VRfHseOFBPy_Qu5gLUhIAEl2_TU45Y4T2lpl-AFZuzc4tb5lOjBeGvm_8UXoI_ZfT-wDSfEspt4ixueHU16U9pasN7eVT0ErzJTLf5PlsC6cRSPbmGRr2xnL2F/s1600/DSC04990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01vcbDJBf_q4jAgVVH1VRfHseOFBPy_Qu5gLUhIAEl2_TU45Y4T2lpl-AFZuzc4tb5lOjBeGvm_8UXoI_ZfT-wDSfEspt4ixueHU16U9pasN7eVT0ErzJTLf5PlsC6cRSPbmGRr2xnL2F/s320/DSC04990.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa was one of Steven's biggest cheerleaders--whether it was at a ball game<br />
or concert, and especially during his cancer fight. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdRh8r7XWLC3XwfBAuNnZ22pktQQfFjdtCIDnJ_BWTOQCF3xRJxmkJbGUpjfKaQvF25nGeRkiB9MSZ1UKtR2BCvvJ_7hksxyAfixpmOyKU8UAz6jyAk_I8aR_sUdPFR6_Mx1tFehUX4Zp/s1600/DSC07472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdRh8r7XWLC3XwfBAuNnZ22pktQQfFjdtCIDnJ_BWTOQCF3xRJxmkJbGUpjfKaQvF25nGeRkiB9MSZ1UKtR2BCvvJ_7hksxyAfixpmOyKU8UAz6jyAk_I8aR_sUdPFR6_Mx1tFehUX4Zp/s320/DSC07472.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura and Grandpa this summer. He gave hugs often and sometimes awkwardly, <br />
but there was never a doubt about his love.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv4Ui861Fx8u5MfkUA3MS_qU54hyphenhyphenoZe_ZGn2fbPO64iGZT5HdUv7YzKTI2QOnXMrADnaVRcy0UIHBCzNjUzr4Lm7PLdyXtaDOSZtdeHvdOedWgm_ybsH_zba_-oQuIVE9-jlGaTSPVgFv/s1600/DSC07653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv4Ui861Fx8u5MfkUA3MS_qU54hyphenhyphenoZe_ZGn2fbPO64iGZT5HdUv7YzKTI2QOnXMrADnaVRcy0UIHBCzNjUzr4Lm7PLdyXtaDOSZtdeHvdOedWgm_ybsH_zba_-oQuIVE9-jlGaTSPVgFv/s320/DSC07653.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He rarely missed a birthday, and then only when he was out of town.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhta8T4XkGS0dSxt6sxl1BXD0T_KlkITQRhqSbIOp6tfNdVKYXTzYOWfiasyMDjh4fsECPy4RrCgVQ5GgYMYl8_ZyowAEX4Qlvx3OUVy_6shV2acCmHCGgJtlwxAPd9-PZuUb3G6sz7-xeT/s1600/DSC08675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhta8T4XkGS0dSxt6sxl1BXD0T_KlkITQRhqSbIOp6tfNdVKYXTzYOWfiasyMDjh4fsECPy4RrCgVQ5GgYMYl8_ZyowAEX4Qlvx3OUVy_6shV2acCmHCGgJtlwxAPd9-PZuUb3G6sz7-xeT/s320/DSC08675.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His last church assignment was at a church farm that provided vegetables to the Bishop's storehouse.<br />
He put his whole heart into his assignment as he did all his church service.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvUYYKuL5nkBK03m64rvyfEuWeqacWWnwfUasgaNjhu9D_dJUIgbdvNaYWr9IvclFMzIe_XdDyQtEt2PMSUk2_2n81A1LWqbqyVm8Dbw8M4nOZPvDu_zusI-rNRnCJdATVvtj8_b5Ohzj/s1600/DSC_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvUYYKuL5nkBK03m64rvyfEuWeqacWWnwfUasgaNjhu9D_dJUIgbdvNaYWr9IvclFMzIe_XdDyQtEt2PMSUk2_2n81A1LWqbqyVm8Dbw8M4nOZPvDu_zusI-rNRnCJdATVvtj8_b5Ohzj/s320/DSC_0078.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was the kind of Grandpa to play with the kids. He loved to play board games or <br />
read them stories, or go on walks, anything as long as he was with his grandkids.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAB0fYB9_Uf2enudaZTDN7cfMRFyA6_N97xDhUYpuj5qxZIQh-rkaLS4KbgYXChhuA4Mm5jnUijcBbM6GcqvwMaCitBXGYHGIrNE_vm-l9HG8lSMRJ9eOxUQW0c1Lg_Hpchw2aeGLPJjf/s1600/DSC_0123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAB0fYB9_Uf2enudaZTDN7cfMRFyA6_N97xDhUYpuj5qxZIQh-rkaLS4KbgYXChhuA4Mm5jnUijcBbM6GcqvwMaCitBXGYHGIrNE_vm-l9HG8lSMRJ9eOxUQW0c1Lg_Hpchw2aeGLPJjf/s320/DSC_0123.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture isn't great, but I love that I have proof that he was a play-on-the-floor kind of grandpa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYnRMJRKJh00ETAiSBsSO7vArWXTKJgZ_pK7r18GXAbmJsAKCe3IGwFGduXZRyLuGFmkmWXNx_pftSRSH0c8F4v6JhYjat7AHezxr34rxkawMjOSgYfrxKTewR6vNfNbb_noJsTmaeYON/s1600/DSC_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYnRMJRKJh00ETAiSBsSO7vArWXTKJgZ_pK7r18GXAbmJsAKCe3IGwFGduXZRyLuGFmkmWXNx_pftSRSH0c8F4v6JhYjat7AHezxr34rxkawMjOSgYfrxKTewR6vNfNbb_noJsTmaeYON/s320/DSC_0127.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa loved to hold the babies, and would scoop them up whenever he could.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8rVOjuIt4oCjgpoga9EK7e_ScNX1-24DtxuAlTkx2IuW504WksW_o-mb_kvxjE_QmZP9lUhneit_qObWobCPAlX0O5X58X1-WhviP-WRebgozwTkkIzs1VJTfER6lQQNV0nnAVI_HnRn/s1600/image_+722264222005111222434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8rVOjuIt4oCjgpoga9EK7e_ScNX1-24DtxuAlTkx2IuW504WksW_o-mb_kvxjE_QmZP9lUhneit_qObWobCPAlX0O5X58X1-WhviP-WRebgozwTkkIzs1VJTfER6lQQNV0nnAVI_HnRn/s320/image_+722264222005111222434.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He took lots of time off when we lived in Ohio to come visit us and get to know our kids.<br />
I love this one of him with Andrew. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGrdr8IXG6ZsMm8AIppTqzDwEcvfM4HkPfNVmEV1poFYQQj7_VV_mhtQoi92m417PClgDdVvh3YT9EIu1DxHhYHTXfBq7JxldzWdOPID4rw3SSHXlP3fC91uvBlMCJcbgz26hiiO9NhJ9/s1600/IMG_3991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGrdr8IXG6ZsMm8AIppTqzDwEcvfM4HkPfNVmEV1poFYQQj7_VV_mhtQoi92m417PClgDdVvh3YT9EIu1DxHhYHTXfBq7JxldzWdOPID4rw3SSHXlP3fC91uvBlMCJcbgz26hiiO9NhJ9/s320/IMG_3991.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is Steven getting ready for a fishing trip with Grandpa. Steven loves to fish but<br />
we don't, so he begs his grandparents to take him and they make time to do it. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHGdg3QiZnZrbrn8lHuK6xkEodOiOXZxm1hUznICbs5bKbeOQ4uxsSgNkZzmbYAke-f4pb3mubFfTaUe_1_juXqTQ-ybbtSfRBdj3KeL55CfxmcEAML6CjEhuLnYfIw3hVnnqLq_WQBeT/s1600/IMG_2862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHGdg3QiZnZrbrn8lHuK6xkEodOiOXZxm1hUznICbs5bKbeOQ4uxsSgNkZzmbYAke-f4pb3mubFfTaUe_1_juXqTQ-ybbtSfRBdj3KeL55CfxmcEAML6CjEhuLnYfIw3hVnnqLq_WQBeT/s320/IMG_2862.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's been at all our kids blessings and baptisms and priesthood ordinations. <br />
Family was his great priority, and none of us doubted it. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCb4Os1gSFJxiTXq66zCku1cgpJMi6GhG0cDIU1uBnPGtZ63jfUr1RTgVc2JAnf-Nrf8ZYY1Ha0u8q4lzoPRld1svUVNVa1zyfo5hwyWh8X34t9BjjWJZr5XBReifzFO9PWe23FtsLhZQ/s1600/IMG_0303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCb4Os1gSFJxiTXq66zCku1cgpJMi6GhG0cDIU1uBnPGtZ63jfUr1RTgVc2JAnf-Nrf8ZYY1Ha0u8q4lzoPRld1svUVNVa1zyfo5hwyWh8X34t9BjjWJZr5XBReifzFO9PWe23FtsLhZQ/s320/IMG_0303.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad was gone the morning we lost little Daniel, and Steve rushed to the hospital to give me a <br />
blessing and then went to our house to be with our kids as they woke up and break them the <br />
news of his death. I will never forget his sincere love and compassion at that time.</td></tr>
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I've seen death slowly take my sister and now I'm watching Rob's family endure the shock of Steve's sudden death. They have different challenges, but both have brought on intense feelings of loss, and also very deep feelings of peace. I feel so sure there is life after death and that through Christ we will all be resurrected someday. And while that certainly makes the loss bearable, I would give anything to be able to call him up one more time and tell him I love him. <br />
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-91091800020617282032016-01-19T17:30:00.000-07:002016-01-23T17:32:37.842-07:00A birthdayI wrote this a few days ago and am just getting around to posting it.<br />
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Grief is strange how it can hit you unexpectedly and also be kind of predictable, too. I knew Alisa's birthday would be hard. All week I've been obsessed with her--everything reminds me of her. Every song on the radio seems to be about her, everything she ever gave me (which is a lot!) screams out to me and no matter what the weather is, it reminds me of times spent together. What is my deal?!<br />
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One snowy morning last week, I was driving along and Coldplay's Paradise came on. It took me back to a Sunday four years ago. Alisa had just found out that her cancer was stage IV. It was in her bones and liver and she was starting to have pain. She called me as I was getting ready for church and said, "Do you want to skip church and drive up to Paradise with me today?" (Paradise is the small town where we spent out childhood.) Of course I said "yes," because suddenly there wasn't anything else in the world I would rather do. </div>
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She picked me up and we had a great drive. It had just snowed and bright sunshine was reflecting everywhere. We talked about many things--her thoughts on dying and what would happen to her kids. I treasure those conversations. Along the drive somewhere, she told me that she had called our brother, Jon, who lives in Idaho, and invited him to meet us. I thought, of course, Paradise is<i> our</i> town. We were the ones old enough to remember it well. But then it came out that she had some ulterior motives for inviting him. She was almost embarrassed to tell me that she was having him bring his camera equipment and was going to have him film her "last run." She wanted to run up a hill that our house faced. She had always wanted to know what was on the other side. And she wanted to make a music video to one of her favorite songs, Paradise. </div>
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So that is what we did that day, and it was so fun, such a great memory. A few days later we were at Target and I found her just staring at a big picture of a woman running in the athletic wear department. She couldn't take her eyes off it. "Sonja, look. She's running. Does she even know how lucky she is?" She tried to look at the clothes we came for, but kept looking up at the picture. "I just can't get over this picture. See how she is smiling? It seems like she doesn't have a care in the world." </div>
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The good news is that Alisa had many more runs after that day in Paradise. The bad news is that she isn't around to protest me posting this video to the world. </div>
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Last night Alisa's husband and her best friend threw a small party in honor of her birthday. My parents couldn't be there but wanted to see pictures, and I'm sure a few of you would love to peek in as well. Alisa and I used to marvel at Stephanie's decorating skills and thoughtful gifts and it was so fun to get a glimpse of what a love for Alisa plus some serious talent can come up with (with a week's notice). We did a balloon launch at the end and I thought about what I wanted to write on my balloon, one sentiment overwhelmed me, "Alisa, I'm so happy you were born." </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFclPy6TvTNdep3i6QBOvZfboG81bn1PsEhblEx7driOOv9TYPZBdOJORucIJr_b2hKzWUMZ4fMjlwmVIL5HJvNh0YUFQ6MZ1m3UAcirhOYxEDLFTI_2FFrfkc3-zlUMsNa7MYqSYSsNcB/s1600/sonja+and+alisa-00018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFclPy6TvTNdep3i6QBOvZfboG81bn1PsEhblEx7driOOv9TYPZBdOJORucIJr_b2hKzWUMZ4fMjlwmVIL5HJvNh0YUFQ6MZ1m3UAcirhOYxEDLFTI_2FFrfkc3-zlUMsNa7MYqSYSsNcB/s320/sonja+and+alisa-00018.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I walked in and this is what I saw: her bike with flowers and a copy of Anne of Green Gables in the basket. I was so touched that anyone would love my sister enough to make this kind of effort. Steph! You are a wonder! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6-MK52FhypyjCcT-6qKBzn6GOeFywmi49a1ycFqACnn2c5MYfTAnFpTBySzB2iVPl4WyPT3PG1vSypFWcm58bUkXyEOVMrWa4rNisTw4YYdXocYzAgzZURF5gL9-LEEkGjT8mvDpehfw/s1600/sonja+and+alisa-00020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6-MK52FhypyjCcT-6qKBzn6GOeFywmi49a1ycFqACnn2c5MYfTAnFpTBySzB2iVPl4WyPT3PG1vSypFWcm58bUkXyEOVMrWa4rNisTw4YYdXocYzAgzZURF5gL9-LEEkGjT8mvDpehfw/s320/sonja+and+alisa-00020.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A peek at the tables and a banner by Stephanie.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrbbqbQ_KYft_ImOvXAF-tJVlmZ3uh0KW7I2_R0e1DXMqmolE-j6hzl1n9trfHPr5dJhVk7Cjh4rgprnE8UpbEllmmSOtsXZQhsN9cw3FzuFpzwkkSdD8oNKqCiBiyKRfiV7CsDkq5JyM0/s1600/sonja+and+alisa-00021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrbbqbQ_KYft_ImOvXAF-tJVlmZ3uh0KW7I2_R0e1DXMqmolE-j6hzl1n9trfHPr5dJhVk7Cjh4rgprnE8UpbEllmmSOtsXZQhsN9cw3FzuFpzwkkSdD8oNKqCiBiyKRfiV7CsDkq5JyM0/s320/sonja+and+alisa-00021.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We all brought a few things that reminded us of Alisa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5VExMQ2O9mxJjUF6mr9e4tG1q87jmO6tgtQSm2SSqf1eGddZoecjQXuv3BdstM0dI9Ou2IeYk-pX8RlbAQFpTUprVy-NpeJ-0enh_5rfY_qDUffAYIuIWkiRNY99F8Hzs3COHegnkd6XF/s1600/sonja+and+alisa-00051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5VExMQ2O9mxJjUF6mr9e4tG1q87jmO6tgtQSm2SSqf1eGddZoecjQXuv3BdstM0dI9Ou2IeYk-pX8RlbAQFpTUprVy-NpeJ-0enh_5rfY_qDUffAYIuIWkiRNY99F8Hzs3COHegnkd6XF/s320/sonja+and+alisa-00051.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with my sisters and Stephanie.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT1r8bXES_Vw_BuEWT_ednmObT6IRse9W5j-1LYnZWRNU5FPzzPXQHqWbjmoNNrJKYGPgma8Oo5qOXhf8sQOkEYoEAh5sgGrKgqeZ45gg0bmVeS7ihiCphi2f0BiwlbdtOZw8ptKAiDRi/s1600/sonja+and+alisa-00061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT1r8bXES_Vw_BuEWT_ednmObT6IRse9W5j-1LYnZWRNU5FPzzPXQHqWbjmoNNrJKYGPgma8Oo5qOXhf8sQOkEYoEAh5sgGrKgqeZ45gg0bmVeS7ihiCphi2f0BiwlbdtOZw8ptKAiDRi/s320/sonja+and+alisa-00061.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting the balloons ready.</td></tr>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-19921333583526359522015-12-25T22:57:00.000-07:002015-12-25T22:57:15.499-07:00A merry Christmas<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzFTkT7d2PjTiTrF_H9vpucXNprJ5WWYyV7V3ClIKpMvEWwpHt7ySR3IaSlIu4WuCpdaAcGvhQNWnkbGGIlmyGFwQYqcxh8SLKemjJyxtcvUB_FCB4aXaaS5Emg3re_lv4yE3Cwsz4kEX/s1600/DSC09636-EDITED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzFTkT7d2PjTiTrF_H9vpucXNprJ5WWYyV7V3ClIKpMvEWwpHt7ySR3IaSlIu4WuCpdaAcGvhQNWnkbGGIlmyGFwQYqcxh8SLKemjJyxtcvUB_FCB4aXaaS5Emg3re_lv4yE3Cwsz4kEX/s640/DSC09636-EDITED.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I'm all mixed up with emotion today. I went walking with my dog after today's beautiful snow storm and somehow the air cleared my head, but after coming home, it's jumbled up again. I've thought a lot about this past year and the hard things it has brought, as well as the great things. The first half of the year, I said goodbye to my sister. As the year began, I held out hope that she would live, but soon I had to accept that my life would have to go on without her. Since she passed away in May, I've been figuring out how to do that. I've been okay, but there is no doubt that everything I do is a little harder, like walking through deep snow. <div>
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But as the year has advanced, things have gotten a little easier and I'm feeling more like myself. Still, I admit that the holidays have been hard. If you hadn't heard, my parents moved to Germany in August. To go through this month without my sister and without my parents has been rough. Little things will trigger huge feelings of loneliness and loss. On top of that, I've been stressed with all the holiday preparations, feeling like there is never enough time or money to do everything I want to do. I admit I've done my fair share of yelling at my kids. Addie even told me that I was probably on the naughty list for being so mad all the time. </div>
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But there is also something about Christmas that can melt even my grinchy heart when I let it. And even when I don't, some kind act will force me to face the joy that comes from the selflessness of the spirit of Christmas. That happened to me yesterday. We were the recipients of a generous secret Santa gift. It was so generous that it has me believing in Santa for what is probably the first time in my life. When I think about the kindness that was shown to us yesterday and throughout the past few years, I am blown away. I cannot believe the generosity that surrounds me. I am humbled and grateful and hopeful that someday I can bless others as others have blessed me.</div>
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We got another great Christmas present this month. Steven had scans a few weeks ago and there was no sign of cancer. It's great news for him and for all of us. It has been four years since he finished his treatment, and he will go to yearly chest xrays now, rather than CT scans. I asked the doctor, "Why not scans, and why not wait until it's been five years out from treatment?" She said that once patients reach four years out, the cancer is very unlikely to return and that the difference between the four and five year recurrences is negligible. It is wonderful news. It means a full year can pass and we can put this behind us. It means his chance of survival has gone up. It means we will have less medical bills and less doctors appointments. It means we are starting a whole new chapter of our cancer story.</div>
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And so, as this year ends, I find myself full of hope. I feel that next year will be a year of recovery and renewal. I may not ever be quite the same person that I used to be, but I hope that I can find some of the energy and joy I've lost. I owe this hope to so many people all around who lift and care for me and my family. But mostly I owe this hope to my Savior, Jesus Christ, whose example and teachings have taught us to love and whose sacrifice gives me hope of eternal life. </div>
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Mild he lays his glory by,</div>
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Born that man no more may die,</div>
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Born to raise the sons of earth,</div>
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Born to give them second birth.</div>
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Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace!</div>
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Hail, the Son of Righteousness!</div>
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Light and life to all he brings,</div>
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Risen with healing in his wings.</div>
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Merry Christmas!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPqAdflgiJ1n4e4maLaYMs7EhXwaOEZEqiGjdqDsq_nkJnrGQ4q57q7OCJWSFhQdlwNn7EvUxrQQu6djRvCgwHZdllnnneCSoXTWTyyjJFpsS4pWASXYhPzi-6uL5-KTF0J9aqd4NgeZf/s1600/DSC09600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPqAdflgiJ1n4e4maLaYMs7EhXwaOEZEqiGjdqDsq_nkJnrGQ4q57q7OCJWSFhQdlwNn7EvUxrQQu6djRvCgwHZdllnnneCSoXTWTyyjJFpsS4pWASXYhPzi-6uL5-KTF0J9aqd4NgeZf/s400/DSC09600.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Addie and her cousin in our nativity play this year.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizN8_ChfiDEWdXOmqGRPDSsHjA_d3XUrPYSsP49UppUFZlsa8PmNdb4hyiNmPwzaNDIke0rTasBe2m-GTkzHBupgXN-m4Nv_NUtJe1JQLcdOEHlECzcA7gg_DA4VyPRoug4UmCBq2sg0uh/s1600/Christmas+2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizN8_ChfiDEWdXOmqGRPDSsHjA_d3XUrPYSsP49UppUFZlsa8PmNdb4hyiNmPwzaNDIke0rTasBe2m-GTkzHBupgXN-m4Nv_NUtJe1JQLcdOEHlECzcA7gg_DA4VyPRoug4UmCBq2sg0uh/s400/Christmas+2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few snapshots from December. </td></tr>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-67725987721511893902015-10-18T22:32:00.002-06:002015-10-18T22:49:46.663-06:00Fall break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last weekend, we took a little trip to Bryce and Zion National Parks. Because Josh has some other long vacations planned, he couldn't take off work, so we brought his boys along. I'm so glad he let us. One of Alisa's requests for me was to take her boys on adventures. I know her ideas of "adventures" are probably way more exciting than mine, but I think she mostly wanted her boys enjoying nature as much as possible.</div>
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I often think about how fortunate we were to have our families so close together. Between the two of us, we had 7 kids in 8 years. So while Rob and I got a few looks and comments about our large "family," cousins make things much more fun. The boys cracked jokes and kept a good attitude the whole time. We had a fun trip. I missed Alisa, but I also loved being around her boys. I don't get to see them as much in the school year because we are just far enough away and have just enough activities that make it hard. The kids could hang out all day and all night and still get along. What a lucky thing to have close cousins.</div>
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Steven is doing great, by the way. I know I've blogged more about Alisa lately than anything, but I wanted to make sure any followers know how Steven is really thriving. He led the way on most of our hikes and I truly had to push myself to keep up. He has always had a thing about being first, from the time he was little. It was annoying to Andrew when they were little. Then cancer hit and Steven was on crutches and was dead last. It wasn't long until he was the first in the walking queue again, and he works hard to stay there. </div>
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Here are a few pictures from the weekend. I realized that my kids had my camera most of the time, so while I have a ton of pictures from our trip, not as many are blog worthy as I thought :). </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFYv5A7fTybCVe0JHAwZ2dD6mSDBQFKbxJKeU8yqV5dyhRWgQDQibthcwQ9wwptDR1xaUsWbhV10jz6Ptu5yhPHP1SJEcGm1vOx490ZRf604zls5hv4oOAj3e7wQEoszk5H7AmBKRXx7Sr/s1600/DSC08709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFYv5A7fTybCVe0JHAwZ2dD6mSDBQFKbxJKeU8yqV5dyhRWgQDQibthcwQ9wwptDR1xaUsWbhV10jz6Ptu5yhPHP1SJEcGm1vOx490ZRf604zls5hv4oOAj3e7wQEoszk5H7AmBKRXx7Sr/s400/DSC08709.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bryce Canyon. Photo credit: Addie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQdInF3NyRV1AgcGAUe3eKjMsUElFRvJZJ5eqFUH2vskx8qRcFjMKM24tLCjnfni4X0P0fIdP6PZxlkHqH7RK72dABEDPaw4RdpkSMfJ_5z3PZ9rlAVOOeTw2HI3519_DHrCr-I1x-lRs/s1600/DSC08776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQdInF3NyRV1AgcGAUe3eKjMsUElFRvJZJ5eqFUH2vskx8qRcFjMKM24tLCjnfni4X0P0fIdP6PZxlkHqH7RK72dABEDPaw4RdpkSMfJ_5z3PZ9rlAVOOeTw2HI3519_DHrCr-I1x-lRs/s640/DSC08776.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the kids in Bryce Canyon. As one person passing our gang put it to her friend, "Everyone here has like a thousand kids." I smiled and (sort of) wished it were true. Who wouldn't want a thousand of these cuties?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia09Sm_n-BLVmOYTLzuTJQWqPS9fSlhTnOLnL5r8CqVXDMCCQ1IzpsqIDF1S_hzNXZRFh0KjBNnewOH1sd3WX7MWHHqTgRKRxJO5lcYHf99FltZPL430cRT6iBVfY763foaNrvIXFYLiSo/s1600/DSC08842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia09Sm_n-BLVmOYTLzuTJQWqPS9fSlhTnOLnL5r8CqVXDMCCQ1IzpsqIDF1S_hzNXZRFh0KjBNnewOH1sd3WX7MWHHqTgRKRxJO5lcYHf99FltZPL430cRT6iBVfY763foaNrvIXFYLiSo/s400/DSC08842.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of this first in line thing Steven has going.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbsWaEewqKlzPncSUqfXMUaY7atvQsszYGWP1Foe0-tsSRsPTk4VGtn58hQdeU59WB1mSLT0tbdbVQ29GFS-6AGWMVUGBErQLH31fHdjQwYrxrHH4SKoyOJi7nrfDRga6vRs6xFlMpZLP/s1600/DSC08778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbsWaEewqKlzPncSUqfXMUaY7atvQsszYGWP1Foe0-tsSRsPTk4VGtn58hQdeU59WB1mSLT0tbdbVQ29GFS-6AGWMVUGBErQLH31fHdjQwYrxrHH4SKoyOJi7nrfDRga6vRs6xFlMpZLP/s400/DSC08778.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wall Street at Bryce</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoDhyphenhyphenzGricyH3k4Itpm02kVUOHjUbht0ozRT_zUaqAmLK9lsHUcdJpH4wAnSPG1iV69zWzx7Fzbx3IBKcMedwjfPP8ZQaCD-7HaQ0KWOmkqX3kcmrGdktEz8IXvEQQHaPPVxpIkVGGTLA/s1600/DSC08947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFoDhyphenhyphenzGricyH3k4Itpm02kVUOHjUbht0ozRT_zUaqAmLK9lsHUcdJpH4wAnSPG1iV69zWzx7Fzbx3IBKcMedwjfPP8ZQaCD-7HaQ0KWOmkqX3kcmrGdktEz8IXvEQQHaPPVxpIkVGGTLA/s400/DSC08947.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking at Zions. This was my view most of the weekend. Lovely.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKJ5LxIiI9ZElSMx2JkMxXR64LK_i2B7KtzvQ2PceTCTVA9GDg_Aimlq_nH6mDFEiSAJ-MOJYx6zLAI7uv8T19hcG1HE-_PALquqR-gCohBecwA_ccad-uS1-fvr0yZRo2wrjIt2rV_LA/s1600/DSC08913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKJ5LxIiI9ZElSMx2JkMxXR64LK_i2B7KtzvQ2PceTCTVA9GDg_Aimlq_nH6mDFEiSAJ-MOJYx6zLAI7uv8T19hcG1HE-_PALquqR-gCohBecwA_ccad-uS1-fvr0yZRo2wrjIt2rV_LA/s320/DSC08913.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We rounded a bend and found this tarantula on our hike. Just a Halloween touch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANrkxQ1eWhsWvQPldyL59v9RWb-68Ryj14oK_B2zcqDc89VM2lbfVWtcjI1CuCzm3O7crBijgBFafploVYcNd-EsFYh1Kj4nq98nWuvVKADxRnNuNkqiDe8NnimtxNv7zSO9fJIlsvgLk/s1600/DSC08978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgANrkxQ1eWhsWvQPldyL59v9RWb-68Ryj14oK_B2zcqDc89VM2lbfVWtcjI1CuCzm3O7crBijgBFafploVYcNd-EsFYh1Kj4nq98nWuvVKADxRnNuNkqiDe8NnimtxNv7zSO9fJIlsvgLk/s640/DSC08978.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite hikes was the Narrows. We didn't make it very far, especially the younger kids. But the older boys and I went on a bit. This is on my list for our next trip.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbauYVBix-bKVGPEfkmEgX5duyptMdSp46PqWJuuKORSY24VdlEO1MWqOvj6d0L8lnAwbPgJke3MskEdF9lnNOuIrKl8mkJkT9SQZzFt7Qwa36Vb31twaBpmg3g9El5fmE7BbpoOIN_jOW/s1600/DSC08979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbauYVBix-bKVGPEfkmEgX5duyptMdSp46PqWJuuKORSY24VdlEO1MWqOvj6d0L8lnAwbPgJke3MskEdF9lnNOuIrKl8mkJkT9SQZzFt7Qwa36Vb31twaBpmg3g9El5fmE7BbpoOIN_jOW/s320/DSC08979.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But a water hike for Steven means some extra water. Whenever we'd get to a bank, <br />
he'd lift up his foot and pour out a cup of water. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-WFLsdKuH1H2ZVvqu4HS28mG08DM_ab_00CSKvCJ17q4lO9YKiTHr4RmhlSOsXeXrOQutqYPUYcB-_ebErTc0yILhzCeqUIIreIM6joaMk8hSjkawmOgUEdEqA5nbmGdHuGOU0CFIKJu/s1600/DSC08939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-WFLsdKuH1H2ZVvqu4HS28mG08DM_ab_00CSKvCJ17q4lO9YKiTHr4RmhlSOsXeXrOQutqYPUYcB-_ebErTc0yILhzCeqUIIreIM6joaMk8hSjkawmOgUEdEqA5nbmGdHuGOU0CFIKJu/s400/DSC08939.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just can't get enough of these cliffs. </td></tr>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-87414739617082817132015-08-20T22:17:00.002-06:002015-08-20T22:17:45.036-06:00Don't be mad<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">I'm feeling completely overwhelmed tonight. I was lump-like on the couch looking at the mess surrounding me and I felt like I needed to escape to stay sane. I headed to the cemetery and walked around in the twilight, feeling like a miserable failure. I was angry at myself that I couldn't muster more energy, I heard Alisa's voice tell me, "Don't be mad at yourself, Sonja." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">It struck me again what a gift her last words to me were. I don't think I've written down yet the story of her last words to me. I say "last words" a little loosely, as we had a conversation about many things on that last day she was conscious. She asked me to write her obituary and to help Josh pick a headstone. She told me that she wanted a plain headstone with nothing on it "Not even my name." She was not entirely herself that day and some of the things she said she weren't quite right.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">Her friend, Jennie, had texted me and told me that I should come see Alisa that day, that she was slipping away fast. She said that she had been with her for a couple of hours and only a few things she said were really appropriate for the context. So I made arrangements and went down. I'm so glad I did.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">As I drove, I considered what I wanted to tell her. Josh was in the room and he got to hear it too. I wanted her to know how much she has meant to me in my life and how much I truly love her. I told her so and told her how sad I was that it had taken cancer for me to stop being jealous of her. I had written her a long letter about it, thanking her for loving me no matter what and for helping me with so much throughout my life. After I started telling her some of these things in the same spirit as the letter, she told me she had read it. I can't remember what else she said, but then she said, "Sonja, don't be mad at yourself." Then in a bossy tone, "Josh, don't let Sonja be mad at herself." Josh and I both laughed and Josh assured her that he wouldn't. It seemed like a strange comment in the context--a bit of the delirium of someone whose mind was failing.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">But it stayed in my mind and I wondered about it as I drove home that night. The next day I was going down again and was picking up my sister, Kirsten, so she could go see Alisa. I was late getting out the door and knew I'd have to almost turn right back around to pick up kids from school. As I was backing out of my driveway, I was cursing my perpetual tardiness and I heard myself say, "I'm so mad at myself!" As I said it, I realized that it is a phrase that often passes through my mind. And then just as strong, I heard Alisa's command, "Sonja, don't be mad at yourself."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.1999998092651px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">Many times in the past few months, I've caught myself getting angry at my weaknesses. And many times I hear her last advice to me. I can't tell you what a powerful gift they are. She knew me so well--maybe better than I know myself. By the end of her life, Alisa had such a beautiful and merciful life perspective. I think she understood that negativity was wasted energy and time and just did her best and left it at that. And so with her words and her example, I plan to remember that just like everyone else, I am doing my best. And while I can certainly strive for better, being angry at myself wont help.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-Nl3Bt64oDIUrCIfE01m7kEwjyw5C6YH9_9ymgspAwrZCTryafDu1KFwjGQ4ulAu07dsZWFht5ys2unfV2da7_uQ1xUTBc5DvAbJOvEa1UMjNNCeVdnB1tu-KwGNxRPYjYNscBL0zKPb/s1600/IMG_20140120_073628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #888888; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-Nl3Bt64oDIUrCIfE01m7kEwjyw5C6YH9_9ymgspAwrZCTryafDu1KFwjGQ4ulAu07dsZWFht5ys2unfV2da7_uQ1xUTBc5DvAbJOvEa1UMjNNCeVdnB1tu-KwGNxRPYjYNscBL0zKPb/s320/IMG_20140120_073628.jpg" style="background: transparent; border: none; box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.0980392) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 10.5600004196167px;">My beautiful sister on her 35th birthday<br /></td></tr>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-86375070829478573932015-08-11T23:04:00.000-06:002015-08-11T23:04:56.892-06:00A trip to Lava Hot Springs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Several years back, Alisa had this fun idea to have an "originals" day trip to Lava Hot Springs. So my siblings and parents (without spouses or kids) all met in Idaho. It was so much fun. I have so many siblings and we are spread out enough that our parents used to take us on separate vacations. We think that this was the first and only vacation that was with all of us and only us. </div>
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It was such a fun memory. Alisa and I often talked about doing it again with our kids some summer day. But it seemed like there was always something else (like cancer treatments) holding us back. </div>
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One day in July I suddenly had the thought that we should make that trip happen for Alisa and her boys. I almost felt like she had whispered the idea in my ear. So I set a date and made plans. And we did it! It was a rainy day, but the hot springs make all the water warmer so it was really fun and not crowded at all. We all pushed past some fears and were brave like she was. Josh jumped off all the platforms and I went down the big slides. Luke braved the river. It was just a great thing. I felt like she was bringing us together. </div>
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Here are some pictures from both trips.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0V6ca05_d1GAoZky7fUMIsIOmttKtkjevVTuvc6y10yw3xq-X446NvvdhpHBVZ66tSfqPOi2Zvas1C5bcQExHl2L6rFvnD9XdBPqRqzbPKy1MPJfzsp-U3xXH-LRuVgbmC2vR_lQr7nXu/s1600/DSC09382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0V6ca05_d1GAoZky7fUMIsIOmttKtkjevVTuvc6y10yw3xq-X446NvvdhpHBVZ66tSfqPOi2Zvas1C5bcQExHl2L6rFvnD9XdBPqRqzbPKy1MPJfzsp-U3xXH-LRuVgbmC2vR_lQr7nXu/s320/DSC09382.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ride up--not a flattering picture of me, but I can't help but smile when I see it anyway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5ECX1qLjQVSmXrmoKgQ3RTRrGk2zquSTnRf5dGnZXhsV81uU-zhdQeEymysTqX4v6N0MRsNd2oC1Emk65GRmZ3X5nYx2dfom43xX0U_HLJY_F-7HKDrUAf0i2BzYTkbnG-Vr3xLFZ4RD/s1600/DSC09394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5ECX1qLjQVSmXrmoKgQ3RTRrGk2zquSTnRf5dGnZXhsV81uU-zhdQeEymysTqX4v6N0MRsNd2oC1Emk65GRmZ3X5nYx2dfom43xX0U_HLJY_F-7HKDrUAf0i2BzYTkbnG-Vr3xLFZ4RD/s320/DSC09394.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of us</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaci3ivktLhpg8DZLaSOdxmANE43ygRgVAETw62s7OvIrypnwy-41EEDhNxaMTqrGd9MXrTUmO7MVWcV8XVnIsxxHbhVZ1mFJGNVj1CFPw8-IZ7kC_LY-BzCVpV16WkOdfaaW6EqLyTMv8/s1600/DSC09403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaci3ivktLhpg8DZLaSOdxmANE43ygRgVAETw62s7OvIrypnwy-41EEDhNxaMTqrGd9MXrTUmO7MVWcV8XVnIsxxHbhVZ1mFJGNVj1CFPw8-IZ7kC_LY-BzCVpV16WkOdfaaW6EqLyTMv8/s320/DSC09403.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She was a brave one!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjs4tMejWPoml8M82CRTmsdl5D7trKp9CcBEzLATIx8UhcqsE-JYweZTv4dWWm4QX7-FBPP418Yk91GnY8ZZbpGMnLZlZozr5cISO6IKpMs6qDH_iu4cFlONJp59ANPra3dcE2M3hTR1lI/s1600/DSC08022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjs4tMejWPoml8M82CRTmsdl5D7trKp9CcBEzLATIx8UhcqsE-JYweZTv4dWWm4QX7-FBPP418Yk91GnY8ZZbpGMnLZlZozr5cISO6IKpMs6qDH_iu4cFlONJp59ANPra3dcE2M3hTR1lI/s320/DSC08022.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steven and James down the river.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yFF2Rsbrxl8P3MANwqCVXTdFvYACOMCt8GtyiXgr4zMC2uQO0aYwzjxIAC0jImPaE9BIgrXPe1S-y4zkogQt-NV7kuap0YR8UiM8PghtyFsrtVMR1tkY8fqB2Ff47c-GVfKfvmsKy48w/s1600/DSC08064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yFF2Rsbrxl8P3MANwqCVXTdFvYACOMCt8GtyiXgr4zMC2uQO0aYwzjxIAC0jImPaE9BIgrXPe1S-y4zkogQt-NV7kuap0YR8UiM8PghtyFsrtVMR1tkY8fqB2Ff47c-GVfKfvmsKy48w/s320/DSC08064.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out of fifteen pictures of us on the river, this is the only one I don't look absolutely terrified in! And you can't see it, but we have Steven's leg in the middle of our tube.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezWGiA2Dn9qICDrvcG1-0_Dl_WhjwYTZpT8KXoOTHnbajSMmD9fKlF62dTZCmxzpMwqxD0Md-BVqo0Ou_dsYRVmPjVPuJlhrzeiTMQQAAEhWZ44LGSlXtLmYrPGnq3KjRdOPOTKrb3Xwp/s1600/DSC08015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezWGiA2Dn9qICDrvcG1-0_Dl_WhjwYTZpT8KXoOTHnbajSMmD9fKlF62dTZCmxzpMwqxD0Md-BVqo0Ou_dsYRVmPjVPuJlhrzeiTMQQAAEhWZ44LGSlXtLmYrPGnq3KjRdOPOTKrb3Xwp/s320/DSC08015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tubing the river is my favorite thing there--and it's the only thing we took pictures of. Don't miss it if you go to Lava.</td></tr>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-17667767854174469002015-07-19T23:02:00.000-06:002015-07-19T23:02:05.913-06:002 months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's been two months today since Alisa's death. I still have moments where the reality of it hits me hard. The other day I felt I had a glimpse of many decades left of my life, all without her. It took my breath away. But mostly I can move forward (slowly) and go on with life. I know I need to spend more time processing and grieving her loss, but I find that life has a way of pulling me along in it's swift current.</div>
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I've been wanted to post a few pictures from the graveside of Alisa's funeral. I know we didn't take enough pictures--she was the picture person in the family, and I know we didn't fully capture the full depth of loss or the love that so many showed for her and her family. I know there are many of you who weren't able to be at the funeral and more that weren't at the graveside service, so here are a few pictures to help you visualize that day and to remember her. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhrq8iH3gGavaEW7aMQ94oqM8ui51Q8glXokKeljkxO6eAXZI6HOgz7BkV3NjQ5x7dx81fmYFu5tck3W4-tmAGvp8CXnxNfupHlioYDfluAirocB2njZNjHBKmbo9lVOLdtbckRzT75Wz/s1600/Alisa+Funeral+at+the+Cemetery-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhrq8iH3gGavaEW7aMQ94oqM8ui51Q8glXokKeljkxO6eAXZI6HOgz7BkV3NjQ5x7dx81fmYFu5tck3W4-tmAGvp8CXnxNfupHlioYDfluAirocB2njZNjHBKmbo9lVOLdtbckRzT75Wz/s320/Alisa+Funeral+at+the+Cemetery-41.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdc0fSzJmUC3KgRj2GwlSzW4tmPwUXGoZa4_jA66RW7sYbn2X-gkk7KIls-xiWJv9ZMIhke2trWYM3pSToL2ZkNYhXFWx0pavB_zP5HLpvhOM1my9DNAcrXiiqxJqh5A9RJgj-gP6VcQm/s1600/Alisa+Funeral+at+the+Cemetery-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRdc0fSzJmUC3KgRj2GwlSzW4tmPwUXGoZa4_jA66RW7sYbn2X-gkk7KIls-xiWJv9ZMIhke2trWYM3pSToL2ZkNYhXFWx0pavB_zP5HLpvhOM1my9DNAcrXiiqxJqh5A9RJgj-gP6VcQm/s320/Alisa+Funeral+at+the+Cemetery-51.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-66697917445021721652015-07-12T21:58:00.000-06:002015-07-12T22:53:57.832-06:00Much needed good news<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Steven had scans on Friday and thankfully, they were normal. As you can see from the picture, the new scanner has a pirate themed makeover. As we sat there listening to the machine tell Steven when to breath and when to stop breathing, I couldn't help but think of an amusement park ride and how much scarier this is than anything you could strap me into there. </div>
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But in all seriousness, the weeks leading up to Friday have been tough. I've known anxiety in the past, but this was getting a little out of hand. If I wasn't careful, my mind would project a dismal future where Steven and I both had cancer, Rob lost his job, we went bankrupt, divorced and I was in a straight jacket in an institution. Once Rob told me that thoughts like that were the opposite of praying. I've thought a lot about that and so I started praying instead.</div>
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The night before the scans, I knelt in prayer and as I was telling God that I really missed Alisa and how much I needed to talk to her about my fears, I was filled with a peace and distinct feeling that she would be with me at the hospital the next day. I slept well and woke up the next morning relatively calm (at least compared to the rest of the last week!). I was able to calmly go to all the appointments and was so happy and relieved to hear the good news that his lungs look clear and his blood work is normal. And truly I felt like Alisa was there to celebrate with me. </div>
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Cancer fear was something that she totally understood and she was the person I would call as scans approached and anxiety would creep into my mind. She could always talk me down from my crazy place. Someone asked me what her trick was, and I'm not sure if I can put a finger on it. She knew all the relevant statistics and had a good grasp of the reality of cancer. But at the same time, she saw the hope in the percentage of people of who survived or responded to treatment. She had lots of hope for the future of cancer research and always felt like if she just had more time, they would figure out a cure. In Steven's case, she saw only hope because his prognosis is so much better than hers was. Plus, she felt sure that if his did come back, the cure was just around the corner for him. I think her trick was just that she understood and acknowledged my fears, but then quickly changed the focus of our conversations to all the reasons to hope.</div>
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There is a whole lot of hope for Steven. He has been out of treatment now for 3 1/2 years and the doctors feel like he is past the time where the cancer is most likely to come back. They will do a scan in December and if all looks good, we will discuss moving to annual chest xrays instead of the scans. Xrays are less detailed, but they also emit less radiation. Moving to an xray is just another vote of confidence that the cancer is gone for good.</div>
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By the way, Steven is doing really well. We've spent a lot of time this summer in appointments with doctors, orthodontists, audiologists, and prosthetists. They've made him a new leg, but that took two tries, because the first didn't fit right. He's still kind of figuring out the leg he has--with some adjustments, it is better, but there are still moments when his walk isn't quite right. He and his friend started a small lawn mowing business. He is spending lots of time with my parents and the Linton boys. </div>
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Here is a little video clip of Steven at the swimming pool. This wasn't his best flip, but it was the only one I captured. My friend thought I should put it on the blog--he certainly gets a lot of interested looks when we are at the pool. </div>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-35895861983822714512015-06-15T22:57:00.000-06:002015-06-15T22:57:58.976-06:00Take a picture of your life before it changes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've been missing Alisa fiercely the past few days. When I get very busy, the feeling might subside a bit, but when I slow down, it hits me so hard. Josh posted this slideshow that my sisters made for her viewing. I watched it for the first time tonight and can hardly stand that she is gone. I still had so much to tell her and she had so much to teach me. </div>
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If you watch the video, one thing you'll notice is how many lovely pictures she has. She has often told me to take more pictures, and even though I'm self conscious about pictures of myself, she encouraged me to take more. If I said I looked too old, she told me I would only get older. And she was right--I'm so glad she took so many. I look into her eyes in these pictures and remember her. I'll try to do better.</div>
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Right now a picture of me wouldn't be so lovely. The weight of grief shows in my eyes and shoulders. I find myself reminding me to smile. I don't know if my kids have heard my smiling voice for months. Or is it years. I have so far to go. </div>
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This grief has been different for me than when I lost my baby. Not so debilitating--I think because I saw it coming. But not easier, just different. With Daniel, the stages of grief seemed so textbook-ordered. With Alisa's loss, it is jumbled up. Today I felt so anxious, a fear almost. And there is nothing I'm afraid of, and all I could come up with is grief. </div>
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The trick will be finding joy again. And not taking life for granted. I love how she lived that way, up until the very end. And I love that her pictures and blog posts are here to remind me. </div>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-58279889194624512062015-05-31T10:22:00.001-06:002015-05-31T10:22:39.809-06:00More to the story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the <a href="http://www.stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2015/05/alisa-such-life-to-describe-in-so-few.html">life sketch</a> I wrote for Alisa's funeral, I mentioned that she was a huge help to our family when Steven first got diagnosed with cancer. I may have also posted some of these stories, but as I was talking to some of my cousins at the funeral, it seemed they hadn't heard them, and so I thought I'd better write it out all together.</div>
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Steven was diagnosed with bone cancer on <a href="http://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2012/02/where-were-you-one-year-ago-today.html">February 16, </a> 2011. He had been limping and one evening, I noticed his knee was swollen. The next morning I made an appointment with the pediatrician and picked Steven up from school. I never in a million years expected to hear he had cancer. An xray revealed a bone tumor and the doctor broke the news to me gently. I sat in the waiting room while the office set up appointments for us at the children's hospital. I was stunned and at this point didn't realize it was cancer. I did the only thing I could think of, I texted Alisa. "Steven has a bone tumor. We are going up to the hospital." </div>
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Alisa had found a tumor of her own just a week or two before this. At this point, only Josh, me and my brother, Jon, knew about it. She was waiting for results to see how far it had spread and what stage the cancer was at so she wouldn't worry too many people until it was clear what she was up against. </div>
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I know she started googling bone cancers immediately. She then hopped in the car and drove to my house. I needed to drop my little girls off there with my mom before our appointment at the hospital. Sometime between the texts to Alisa and getting home, it dawned on my that we were up against cancer. Alisa and my mom were waiting for me when I got home. </div>
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She coached me in a few things to ask about. She thought that I should look nicer for my appointment (side note--if I have ever dressed nicely, it is thanks to her). We started to look through my meager clothing selection and when she wasn't satisfied, she decided to just trade me shirts, literally giving me the shirt off her back. She had brought a book for Steven (he wrote an essay about that, I'll post it later), and gave him her smart phone so he would have something to keep his mind off the stress of the hospital. </div>
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She watched my kids so my parents could come up to the hospital. She cleaned my house and had the cousins and siblings make cards for Steven. She got him balloons for his bedroom to welcome him home after the long day.</div>
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I remember my stomach sinking as my parents told Dr. Jones that their daughter had cancer once, but that she was free and clear. I knew they were only days away from a heartbreak similar to what I was experiencing. </div>
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The next day Steven went in for a biopsy and port placement surgery. While he was in surgery, Alisa talked to me and insisted we take a vacation before he started chemo. "He needs to see the ocean." She talked my dad into giving us his frequent flier miles and we booked flights to <a href="http://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-wanted-to-post-some-pictures-from-our.html">California</a>. She even let James come along to help cheer up Steven.</div>
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Steven's surgery was on a Thursday, and we left on Saturday morning. So on Friday, Alisa felt like I needed to invest some time on my image. She took me to get my hair done and then took me shopping. She bought me the most expensive pair of jeans I've ever owned and more clothes besides. She would buy more things when I was in California so that I would be well prepared for lots of hospital and doctors visits in the future.</div>
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I don't know where this fits in, but around this time, Alisa got all my siblings to go in on a group gift of an Ipad. At the time, our family owned no personal electronic devices or smart phones or gaming systems. She thought he'd need something to do while he went through chemo. It was a huge blessing through all of his treatments.</div>
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The vacation turned out to be exactly what I needed. Until we left, I hadn't been able to eat or sleep. I did both well on the trip. She knew the power of a vacation--it is one of many lessons Alisa taught me. I will forever be grateful for those memories and for that peace.</div>
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While we were on vacation, she organized a massive overhaul of my house. We had been living in a 1200 square foot rental home since 2008. We had been planning to start home shopping in the spring, but cancer would put that on hold. I hadn't taken the time to decorate the house since I was always hoping to leave. But she decided I would be more comfortable there if it were decorated and if used some IKEA magic to make the small space stretch. She also thought I'd get better care from the home health nurses if my house looked well cared for. She had my siblings all come over and install shelves and hang pictures. She focused on the living room and on Steven's bedroom. My parents bought a recliner for Steven. All of this was waiting for us when we got home from California. I felt so loved.</div>
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I was also amazed at how much she had accomplished. I knew that she was so worried about what her own future held. She got her results the day that Steven started chemo. Her cancer had progressed to stage III, but luckily there was no cancer beyond her leg. She would start a grueling process of decision making and waiting as we things were just getting going for Steven.</div>
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She came to see us in the hospital and took some beautiful pictures. She told me I should start <a href="http://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2011/02/faqs.html">a blog</a>. She gave me all kinds of convincing reasons: giving out accurate information to concerned family and friends, sharing my feelings, keeping a record of things I'd learned, and to help others going through similar trials. I followed her advice and I'm so glad I did.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10VH4_tftIcex1Pu_zN3kvgtssFnTgz6wKTTmmLhtm_3oK_TylX06biFepcYLM1tgIBVcVe1q-vBWIb0owUiOufNwrd4nG5VVMo-576sIqFeNz9_YTFdHyh46044DjpicqW-Hu9dFY-fc/s1600/DSC00975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10VH4_tftIcex1Pu_zN3kvgtssFnTgz6wKTTmmLhtm_3oK_TylX06biFepcYLM1tgIBVcVe1q-vBWIb0owUiOufNwrd4nG5VVMo-576sIqFeNz9_YTFdHyh46044DjpicqW-Hu9dFY-fc/s320/DSC00975.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Alisa's pictures of us in the hospital. I'm wearing a shirt she gave me and a hairstyle she paid for.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alisa visit's Steven in the hospital during his first round of chemo.</td></tr>
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So far, I have just written about the first week of Steven's diagnosis. I could almost write a book about all the things she did for us. She was incredible. She organized a family gift of regular housekeeping so I wouldn't have to clean my toilet for nine months. She helped watch my other kids and organized <a href="http://www.stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2011/05/mothers-day.html">fun play dates</a> to keep Steven cheered up. She <a href="http://www.stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2011/05/eve-of-surgery.html">took pictures</a>. She would come to visit us and bring the perfect treat or book for Steven. She threw Steven a <a href="http://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2011/10/party-time.html">party</a> to celebrate the end of chemo. I could write a whole other post about her help after I <a href="http://joshalisa.blogspot.com/2012/11/life-is-good.html">lost my baby</a> and she canceled her trip to stay, and how about the amazing group gift of a <a href="http://stevenbattlescancer.blogspot.com/2012/11/my-angel-baby.html">beautiful piano</a> she made happen for me and for Steven. More than anything, she was always the perfect person for me to pour out my heart and worries to--she knew what I was going through. <br />
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Alisa was a huge part of me surviving Steven's cancer diagnosis and treatment. So often people wonder at how the two of us could have cancer affect us at about the same time. I don't know the reasons, but if cancer was in the stars for us, I'm really glad that we could go through it together. I'm glad that she was there for me and had learned the ropes. I hope that somehow I understood her more because I had a taste of what she was going through. <br />
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One of the regrets she often expressed to me was that she wasn't able to do more for me. It seems a silly concern as I list the amazing service she did. I think each act of service was more meaningful because she did it in the midst of her own troubles. And maybe the best thing of all was her example of looking outside of yourself in the middle of your problems. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another visit later in the year. She visited him countless times.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was taken on the last day of Steven's chemotherapy. </td></tr>
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<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-43134457692960298282015-05-27T11:48:00.001-06:002015-05-27T11:48:10.872-06:00a few thoughts on grief<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I wrote this back in January and am going to post it as I wrote it then. Since then, I feel like I have things to add, plus it needs to be edited, but I don't have the energy for that right now, so you get it as is. If any of you have insights from your life, I'd love to hear about them.</div>
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<b>January 16, 2015</b></div>
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I was able to spend the evening with
Alisa last night. She called me and asked if I would come and help
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ma04UJr2-BB2Qe947setlXtLH1LfrYu12Dfa53AApdu9331Rb1wRa8ZcHqubYsHRCZkG5q84h5c8Aq5Vh9nA9zPrs15LhClxrrVIaCdxt8WnO4op-b9b3Vt5sWOZ0c8aGTdJkBDlrQIF/s1600/me+and+alisa+in+the+hospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ma04UJr2-BB2Qe947setlXtLH1LfrYu12Dfa53AApdu9331Rb1wRa8ZcHqubYsHRCZkG5q84h5c8Aq5Vh9nA9zPrs15LhClxrrVIaCdxt8WnO4op-b9b3Vt5sWOZ0c8aGTdJkBDlrQIF/s320/me+and+alisa+in+the+hospital.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We laughed and cried that night. I look like I've got a decade of trouble on my mind and she is as gorgeous as ever, even as we talked about life going on after her death. </td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But this morning I want to write about
our conversation about grief. She is so worried about the pain that
her death would cause to her family, her boys and Josh especially,
but for everyone. We talked about grief a little and she asked me to
write some things for her boys to know and for others to know as they
help her boys. She wants me to write some of the things I've
learned about grief, too. I figured I should do it now before I am
too sad to do it.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Grief is a hard thing and it is very
real. People talk about your heart breaking, and I think it is
because there is a real physical pain that can only be described that
way. Alisa wanted her boys to know that is is okay to be sad and
that they should be sad. She doesn't want people to try and make it
better for them with trite sayings like, "it will be okay"
or "it is for the best." Because for a while it really
won't be okay and even if in the end, this is a part of the plan,
right now they will feel like having her here is the very best. I
found it most helpful when people acknowledged my pain and simply
said they were sorry.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was really helpful for me to read
about grief and to understand it better. There are so many
resources, one I like is on a <a href="http://www.cancer.net/coping-and-emotions/managing-emotions/grief-and-loss/understanding-grief-and-loss">cancer website</a>. I was going
to write lots of that, but it has already been written so you can
read it there.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One explanation of grief really helped
me for some reason--it explained how our nervous system is truly
healing from a loss of someone that was a real part of our emotional
and physical world. Every time we think about that person, or are in
a situation where our soul expects that person to be there, it is
like rubbing an open wound, or walking on a broken leg. It hurts.
But each time it happens, it might hurt a little less and eventually
we can heal. There will always be a scar, but it won't always hurt
as acutely as it does at first.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I lost my baby, I experienced
grief like I never had before. It was a difficult time, and honestly
still is in some ways. On the other hand, in the days and weeks
following his death, I was upheld by the spirit. Christ promises
that He will not leave us comfortless and that "blessed are
those that mourn: for they shall be comforted." I will tell you
that this is so true, I felt very strongly that I was being held up
and carried on. And I even felt like that although I had a very
painful sadness, that my life was in God's hands and that Daniel was
in God's hands and that everything really would be okay someday. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa told me about a blog post that
kind of helped her. She couldn't remember who wrote it, but it has
stuck with her. It was written by the surviving wife of a fellow
cancer patient who suffered terribly at the end of his life.
Someone told this to his kids. "What if I told you that your
dad could be totally taken care of, with no pain, no troubles, no
sorrow? Where they can rest and have peace. The only catch is that
you won't be able to see them again in this life." Alisa has
been in so much pain this last week that I think she sees it as a
nobrainer that the kids would want their dad to have no pain. But I
don't know that it is so simple. It is really hard to let go.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The other thing about this story is
that really, the kids, the dad, Alisa, us....none of us really has
the power to keep someone alive when it is their time to go. That is
one of the hardest things about death for me. It truly is in God's
hands. So even if her kids would rather have a suffering mom here
than a painless mom in heaven, they really don't get to pick.
Hopefully, we will be able to find some comfort that she is in a
place devoid of suffering. I have to think that means that she won't
be sad to be separated from her kids--that she will have a better
understanding of God's plan and that time will be short until she is
reunited with her kids.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Something we talked about was that love
has no boundaries. She was giving what she called some "mini
sermons." No matter where Alisa is, she will love her kids more
than anyone can except for maybe Josh and certainly Heavenly Father.
Her love will be here even when she is not. They will love her and
she will love them right back. I honestly believe that her spirit
will be nearby and be the very best of guardian angels for her boys.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If we lose Alisa, it will be very hard
for all of us. Grief is physically exhausting and very difficult.
It will take time, but there are things you can do to help heal.
Spending time remembering her, writing down memories and feelings,
crying, reading the scriptures, visiting her grave, drawing pictures,
playing or listening to music, praying. All of those things will
help. At first that is all you will want to do, but eventually, you
will find that life goes on and you have to do other things too. And
it will be hard to do things like homework and chores. Sometimes
going to school or work will be a good way to go on with life and
forget a little about the pain. Sometimes it may feel to painful to
go and forget.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I want to tell her boys this: You will
never forget your mom. You will always love her. Even as time goes
on and you feel happy again, you won't forget her. She will want you
to be happy, so don't hesitate to grab every ounce of happiness given
you. That is how she lives her life.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-35314084721675905722015-05-23T11:08:00.000-06:002015-05-23T11:38:49.537-06:00Alisa--such a life to describe in so few words<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm sure most people who look at this blog know that my little sister, Alisa, passed away this week. She was suffering so much that in there was a bit of relief mixed in with a deep sadness to say goodbye. I struggle with the question of why she had to get cancer at all. And why couldn't she have been cured of it? Watching her slip away, I felt like I was facing my worst fear for my own child and in one of my very favorite people. The past days and weeks have been difficult, but I think the hardest part is ahead of me. Holidays and family events and most of all the every day when I feel like calling her and chatting about whatever. She has been a big part of my life and I will miss her dearly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was asked to give part of her life sketch at her funeral. Many of you were there, but I'm posting it here for those of you who couldn't make it. She was a remarkable person and these few words don't even begin to do her great life justice. Luckily, there were other great talks given yesterday and together, I think we captured her essence. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Life sketch: Alisa's motherhood years</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I was preparing to speak today, I
asked many members of our family to describe Alisa in three words.
Some of them were: profound, bold, beautiful, independent, hard
working, creative, loving and fun. Luke added "kind", Sam
said "awesome" and James: "Best. Mom. Ever."
But I found that there were some traits that really stood out. Her
determination, her ability to see and create beauty and her
compassion.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa was determined. When she was
young, she decided to become a nurse and she made it happen. After
high school, she worked as a CNA to support herself through nursing
school at Ricks College. She got her RN and started working as a
full time nurse. She married Josh Linton. She started school at
BYU. Six months after her first son, James, was born, she graduated
from BYU with a bachelors in public health. She accomplished all
this in just four years after graduating from high school. Every
year since becoming a registered nurse, she has renewed her nursing
license and when she died, her license was current.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa had an ability to create beauty
around her. Not long after James was born, she got her first digital
camera. She began taking pictures for friends and family. When Sam
was born, she quit her nursing job and started to grow her
photography business. She and Josh built a house in Lehi. She
loved to design, decorate and garden. She loved to cook and throw
parties. The new house was the perfect blank slate for her talents.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa has always made friends easily,
and that was true of her new ward and neighborhood. She loved
serving in her ward--teaching Primary or Relief Society and
especially her time with the Young Women. Luke was born and she fell
in love a fourth time. When Luke was just barely two years old, she
got the devastating news that she had metastatic melanoma.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Luckily for all her fans, Alisa started
to blog. On her first blog, she described herself this way:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
"BARELY thirty. Wife and mother of
three. Trying to let cancer change but not define me."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The cancer did work a change in her.
The unimportant and negative began to fall away and she filled that
place with meaning and joy. The determined, artistic, compassionate
Alisa became more bold and more attuned to beauty. She used her
experience with hardship to bless others around her.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The determination that characterized
Alisa was so evident with her cancer fight. She researched every
treatment and pestered doctors and insurance companies if needed
until she could get the treatment she'd chosen. She was determined
that she would try everything she could. Her hard work combined
with some help from God made that dream come true. She didn't want
to leave this world with even one stone unturned. She sent a clear
message to Josh and her boys that she was willing to do everything in
her power to stick around for them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa's eye for beauty was also
enhanced after she was diagnosed with cancer. The world just seemed
brighter to her once she realized what a gift life is. She stopped
taking pictures professionally to spend more time with her kids, but
she shared her new found perspective poetically through her writing.
And she continued to create beauty wherever she was. She loved to
travel and wanted to see and share with her family all the beautiful
places in the world.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her experience with cancer opened her
eyes to the suffering of others and she loved to help and cheer
others. This became very personal to me when my son was diagnosed
with cancer. She coached me through a very difficult time and
organized all kinds of help I could ever think of needing. She
decorated my house while we were on a vacation that she insisted we
take. She has helped me through all our cancer years, but that
first week was a critical time and the amazing thing is that she had
just found that her cancer had returned. She didn't tell the family
until the day Steven started chemotherapy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Alisa's cancer helped her see how much
she loved being a mother. She decided that if her time were limited
with her kids, she would do everything she could to influence them
for good while she could. And if her time were extended? Then even
better. She often told me that her kids were her biggest
investment. She wanted them to be happy and successful. She wanted
them to exercise and play instruments and read and be kind. She
hoped they would try everything: swimming, skiing, sports and
karate. She wanted them to eat good breakfasts and to have good
friends. She warned against the evils of too much screen time and
often felt to remind her kids (and all other kids around) to "come
outside." She loved to attend their recitals and ball games and
to take them on adventures around town or in the mountains.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some of my favorite posts on her blog
are from Mother's Day. I would like to read a part of her post in
2012.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
"Have I told you I love being a
mother? Why? Because as confused as I seem about life and purposes,
. . . when you are diagnosed with a life threatening illness. . .,
you realize what you want out of life. In life. Because of life.
You know what you want by the time you die. You figure it out
quickly in the face of death.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are so many things I don't really
want any more. I don't really want to care about appearances, or
money, or where I'm going to be in 10 years, or how much I weigh, or
what kind of car I drive, . . . . I would take all of these things,
don't get me wrong. But who really cares when all is said and done?
Pretty sure I'm not going to spend too much time worrying about that
stuff.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I just want to give. I want to live
for Josh. And James. And Sam. And Luke.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a Christ-like love. Giving,
asking nothing in return. That is what I want. I want to give. I
want to love. That is why I want to live.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I bet if you look deep enough you will
find that same desire.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Right now I talk about being a mother,
. . .but everyone has their own purpose, and people to serve.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sometimes you might ask as a mother,
Why? Why am I doing this? . . . Because you need to. Because you
can. And I'm guessing, because you want to. Because once you were
once sparked with the old magic. Maybe that first time you were put
into your own mother's arms the incredible love that makes the world
keep going sparked you with the same unselfish desires and instincts.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Isn't it wonderful? To have, . .
someone who (deep deep down) loves you always. Someone who would do
anything for you. Although maybe she can't. A love so pure and
simple, deep and strong, that it never changes. To have someone who
will be with you no matter what. If you are born imperfect, you are
loved perfectly. If you become imperfect along the way, if you do
not live up to your mother's dreams, you are still what she dreams
about and concerns herself with. She doesn't give up on you. Cheers
you on even if you are last in the race. Especially if you are last.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
Even
if...even if we can't be in the 'same spot.' I know my love will
stay with my boys.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
I know
because I have felt love's scope these last couple months. And it's
longer than time, and deeper than space.</div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
It's
magic I'm only beginning to understand. But not one bit afraid to
use."</div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
Alisa
used her magic called love, and it will stay with her boys forever.
My prayer today is that we will share her desire to give and to love
as Christ did. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 0.19in; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 1;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You can read the full text <a href="http://joshalisa.blogspot.com/2012/05/old-magic-that-roars.html">of the Mother's day post here.</a> Also, her <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/deseretnews/obituary.aspx?n=alisa-johnson-linton&pid=174896303&fhid=19566">obituary here</a> or <a href="http://www.joshalisa.blogspot.com/2015/05/alisa-linton.html">here on her blog.</a></div>
<br /></div>
Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-2616764337966924392015-05-10T22:45:00.002-06:002015-05-10T22:47:14.574-06:00Mother's day can be hard for people and for so many reasons. Today was one of those hard ones for me, because I couldn't get my sister, Alisa, off my mind. <br />
<br />
I know I haven't been updating much here on my blog lately. I've been distracted and besides, she updates <a href="http://www.joshalisa.blogspot.com/">hers</a> fairly regularly. If you have followed her story, you know that since January, things have not been easy for her. Her cancer is back in force. Right now she's struggling with the decision to go on hospice.<br />
<br />
It's been a rough time for me. She is such a huge part of my life--as she was born 17 months after me, I have no memory of life without her. And most childhood memories include her. And we've talked on the phone almost every day since we started having kids. She coached me through Steven's cancer. I owe so much of who I am to her and her influence.<br />
<br />
I have been so touched by all the people who have reached out to help her and to help me. Yesterday I sent an email to our family and some friends about a group gift for her and within the hour we had more than enough to cover the gift and within the day, it exceeded any expectation. Thanks to all who helped--it will be a blessing to them.<br />
<br />
Alisa is one of my favorite examples of motherhood and I think of her often on those days when I want to throw in the towel. She shows me how to live amidst hard times and how to savor the moments. She teaches me to expect a lot from my kids and to make sure they feel unconditionally loved. She has been an amazing example of faith and hope. I love her dearly and from the times we were playing with dolls as kids to now as we raise teenagers, I cherish her role in my growth as a mom.<br />
<br />
I hope that you will hug your kids a little tighter tonight and say a prayer for my sister. She's in a rough place and she will be holding onto life as tight as she can because more than anything, she wants to be here for her kids. <br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkuZ70xIOA2UWssipREONVp-2Z5R5Bw8zI2TR5FVDz_hcQpihHqkkAhljwEaHQW-Qr-oCAJ9Flnl7-Ps_0mgWzxYkC9i_35XbjvB0ryHh1HAUJSzJoh9gwkglVZbanGBidN9qAZtwsHdB5/s1600/Johnson+Family+Portrait+2015-544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkuZ70xIOA2UWssipREONVp-2Z5R5Bw8zI2TR5FVDz_hcQpihHqkkAhljwEaHQW-Qr-oCAJ9Flnl7-Ps_0mgWzxYkC9i_35XbjvB0ryHh1HAUJSzJoh9gwkglVZbanGBidN9qAZtwsHdB5/s400/Johnson+Family+Portrait+2015-544.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture of me, my sisters and my mom. This was taken just over a week ago on the eve of my youngest sister's wedding. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-68852768206602130512015-02-08T22:06:00.000-07:002015-02-10T21:03:22.214-07:00Ski campAs if I needed one more reason to love Shriner's Hospital...<br />
<br />
Last week, Steven was able to go to Shriner's UnLimbited camp at the Park City National Disability Center. <a href="http://www.ksl.com/?sid=33368478&nid=148&title=ski-camp-offers-teen-amputees-chance-to-learn-balance-gain-confidence&s_cid=queue-7">Here is a link to a news story about the week</a>. <a href="http://m.deseretnews.com/article/865621270/Teenage-amputees-learn-balance-gain-confidence-at-ski-camp.html?ref=http://www.google.com/?ref=http://www.google.com/">And this one at Deseret News.</a> <a href="http://photos.parkrecord.com/2015/02/06/shriners-hospital-ski-and-snowboard-camp/#1">And another at Park Record with lots of good pictures of Steven.</a> (He's in all black with some blue on his coat.)<br />
<br />
He came home so excited that he had learned to ski. He also just had a blast with the other kids that were at the camp. Several of the kids were cancer survivors as well, and I could tell that he really just loved getting to know some kids that knew about some of the stuff he deals with. <br />
<br />
I was nervous to send him off for the week, but seeing him so happy with his new skill and so excited about the friends he's met, I am really happy he got to go. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQV3rzMfug8fNxrJrHOMP2uQhOIFuqzm76fFwCsMxAUmoTVyluEvTtmLPqM3C_uzEjDylFKLztRqKBoRwqROEuEgPbtjEkqUlzKWtGxiA9BgWOr5n2t8h6-nVPQR6ZOga2eHUqhq04wIL/s1600/unlimbited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQV3rzMfug8fNxrJrHOMP2uQhOIFuqzm76fFwCsMxAUmoTVyluEvTtmLPqM3C_uzEjDylFKLztRqKBoRwqROEuEgPbtjEkqUlzKWtGxiA9BgWOr5n2t8h6-nVPQR6ZOga2eHUqhq04wIL/s1600/unlimbited.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is a picture of him from the KSL story. He's with Drew, who is also a rotationplasty kid</td></tr>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-39621550478570983242015-02-05T12:56:00.000-07:002015-02-05T13:01:02.838-07:00Winning the cancer fightIt's been an extremely rough couple of weeks watching Alisa go through this awful cancer stuff. There have been so many times when she just doesn't seem like quite herself--the pain and medication is just too much. But even when she's a little crazy, I love to be around her because she is still there, only almost like she is behind some cloud. It's hard to describe.<br />
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Yesterday, though, she called me and it was just like the old Alisa saying "Hey, what are you doing?" It was just an absolute breath of fresh air. When we talked, it was as if the past few weeks were just a dream in the past and she was all back. I went up to the hospital and visited with her. She was all herself, but there was a sadness that I haven't seen much in my very hopeful, fierce cancer-fighting sister. As we talked, I felt like it was just dawning on her that she might not win this fight after all. <br />
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I can't describe how hard that is on so many levels. There is the selfish part of me that realizes how lost I would be without her and what a gaping hole would be left in my heart. But the real sadness comes from seeing her suffer. It's hard to see her in so much pain, and so when I say suffer, I do include the physical part. But even more than that, it is so hard to see how sad she is to think of leaving her family. She is proving through every decision that she is willing to do whatever is in her power to stay alive.<br />
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I guess that is where we come to the hardest thing for me. And it is something I've grappled with through all these recent trials in my life. It is this powerless feeling in the face of death and disease. That even with all the medical advances we've made, we are still human and we are subject to death. I've talked before about how Steven's cancer really burst my "bad things only happen to others" bubble, but the more I go through, the more I see that our lives are in God's hands. I won't say we are powerless to do anything, because a quick look at Alisa's cancer fight proves otherwise. But ultimately, no matter how much we would love to live, we aren't immortal (yet ;)). And that is really hard for me to comes to term with.<br />
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Really, the only way I can is to trust that God's hands are good and that His vision is perfect. It's an easy phrase to write or say, but really trusting Him when things look so bleak is very different. When I lost Daniel, at some point, or in waves, there was such a feeling of resignation to God's will. Also a feeling that fighting something that had already happened was futile and that what was done was done. Every emotion in between came along with that--anger, confusion, deep sadness, guilt, hope, love, comfort, peace--all of it. <br />
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I don't know the point of my post--certainly I'm not saying Alisa should be resigned to death. I feel like her fighting spirit will be the thing that will save her, frankly, already has. I guess I'm just saying that I wish that her will to live were enough to get her better. Doesn't it only seem fair that those that fight the hardest should win? I think so.<br />
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But I think that God's version of winning has little to do with surviving mortality. And if we go by our understanding of His standards, then there is no doubt Alisa has already won.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is me, Alisa and our brother, Jon. The three of us were born within three years of each other. We took this picture on Alisa's birthday and even though the light is doing weird things on my face, I just love it.</span></span></td></tr>
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Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451920211543917602.post-70307528260483076822015-01-09T16:07:00.000-07:002015-01-09T16:07:17.400-07:003 years post treatment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Getting scans near your birthday is a bit risky, but I scheduled Steven's for today without thinking. Thankfully, they looked good, and we are thrilled. Each one he passes, I just feel a bit more secure that the cancer is gone for good. It's true and it's not true--I watched cancer sneak up on my little sister just when she was done with scans and done with worry. But still, even if we are biding time, at the very least we have six more glorious months without cancer fear. <br />
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That is, cancer fear for Steven. All week I've been a nervous wreck. <a href="http://www.joshalisa.blogspot.com/">Alisa</a> had scans also this week and learned that her cancer is growing despite the treatment she has been taking. It is a devastating blow and the combination of scanxiety for both of them and bad news for her has been rough. But nothing compared to what she is going through. <br />
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Yikes. Cancer, I hate it. For me it inspires fear like almost nothing else can. And sometimes the fear is crippling. I think it is part of my challenge to go forward and overcome this fear and go forward with faith that things will somehow work out. That is a whole lot easier to write than to do. Sonjahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12984329339240424504noreply@blogger.com7