From the Heart...

(Reading your article aloud to your brother...I later overheard you telling your brother, "Deak. It is a big, big book for grown-ups that we are in. The newspaper.  It's really big and really cool.")

Dear Abby,

We had a conversation with your Dad last week about our "hearts."  I let you know that it is okay to let go and show other people what your heart was feeling.  You listened and said, "But Mom, I barely even show you that."

I smiled, because at your young age of 8, you are and have always been, perceptive enough to understand the barriers of your strong will and tough exterior.

Later that evening, while discussing the reasons why you were creating a tree for your brother, you sat quietly and appeared to be very thoughtfully pondering the conversation (with your one eye closed, like you always do).  You replied to my questioning with a simple answer, "I want everyone to know who Deakon is."

I smiled through my tears and said, "Ab...that one was from your heart, wasn't it."

You lit up, looked in my eyes and shook your head "Yes."

I am always proud of you, but today...my heart is full to the brim.

I am especially proud today.

Your story has not only touched my heart, but it has reached many.

You told me earlier this week, that one of your hopes in creating this tree was that "Deakon would like it when he got older."  It is okay with you that he may not understand the entire project and what you have done.  You get it.

But Abby, I promise, he loves it now.  He loves you.

Your choice to do something so selfless, even though you do not understand it to be that yet, has forever changed me.  We have had a year of craziness in our little family.  Craziness.  But, that is not what we will become, and definitely not what you will become.  We do hard things, and we become better. We become better by serving others.  Thank you for reminding me.

I know Ab, that this is just the beginning of good things for you. 

Good choices lead to good consequences - that's what we say in our house - and you are full of an amazing potential to change lives.  I know you will; it's why you are here, in our family, with your brother.

Love you over and over and over again.
I am thankful every day for the chance I've been given to be your mommy.

Love,

Mom

Click Here to Read the Story.

Better than a Party in my Tummy.

Way, Way, Way better.

Seriously, I could write about the reaction on Deak's face when he saw and processed the fact that DJ Lance was standing on stage 50 or so feet away..

But, I'd rather show you...

One of my top ten life moments thus far.

Honestly, we all were a bit worried.

We had gloriously high expectations as to how much Deakon would enjoy the show, and wondered if they would not be met.

We hoped.

We hoped the crowd and loud music would not overstimulate him to the point of no return.

This deliriously happy smile lived up to my most perfect dreams.

Aside from the momentary shocked induced rigidity, Deak was in heaven.

He was attentive and happy and awesome.

Deak was in his element; it was as if this place was created for him.

Here, he did not have Ring 18.

He was just my son.

My son wearing his Brobee shirt and sucking on his glow stick - just like all the other kids there.

They played all his favorite songs:  "Freeze,"  "Be-De-Beep-Beep-Be-De-Beep-Clap-Clap" and "All My Friends are Different."

The latter causing my eyes to fill with those tears of gratitude that they so often do.

Because, I would not change one tiny molecule of this Gabba loving son of mine for anything in the world.

He may be a different little friend, but he is my beautiful son, and I love him all the same.

The Many Highlights are as follows:

Deak on the Stage (The Ushers pretended not to notice this)

Ab with Deak (Who is refusing to turn away from the Gabba sign on the stage)

Before the show: in full Brobee headband and DJ Lance glasses gear. 

Waiting... 

 ...for this!!!

In the very first few seconds before full processing took place, he was in complete shock.

The opening scene.

Awesome Reactions...

Clapping along...

When Deak gets real excited he always grabs his shirt and lifts it up...he gets that from his father.

Ab did her best to pretend she was too old and too cool for this show, but while saying her prayers that night, she actually admitted to being thankful for it.

Guess she figured she can't fool the big guy.

The Aquabats: considering Blair and I are rarely able to get out and enjoy good music, we were quite thrilled with their rendition of "Pool Party"

La.La.La.La.

We had floor seats, and the characters came and walked through the aisles after intermission. 

They did not stop for many kids...

But, Muno must have a soft spot for my Deak. 

Biz Markie, and his "Beat of the Day."

The shirt went up for Biz...he's a fave.

The ending scene.

Such a classic picture; Blair is clearly supportive of it, Ab is rolling her eyes, and Deak is refusing to turn his head away from the electronic sign surrounding the Maverick Center.

My life. 

Within two minutes, he was out.  Only to take a good hour to fall asleep in his bed.

He kept talking and kicking and bouncing.

I'd say it was a good time.

Afterwards, Blair said that he wished we could take Deak to this show every week.

That's how much fun we had...

We just may become groupies.

Pure.Joys.

I need this today.
I am tempted to write about the negativity I am allowing myself to float around in.
But, I know that is not helpful.
And, really...I've had a pretty amazing past couple of weeks and I need to wake up and smell the freaking roses.

Pure.Joys this week:

*Ab's tree.  Although admittedly this has also proven to be a bit of a project that I am allowing myself to be overwhelmed with, it is amazing.  It is amazing that my 8 year old created it.  The state newspaper (Salt Lake Tribune) found out about the story behind our tree from the Director of the Festival of Trees, and have asked permission to run an article on my amazing daughter and the miracle story of her brother. They have already interviewed me, and are coming to take pictures of my cute children tonight for their spread.  This is Abby's dream come true - media attention - of any sort.  The even cooler thing is that she is being recognized for doing something so selfless and amazing.  It is perfect karma at its' best.

*Deak and Yo Gabba Gabba Live.  There is a future feature spot coming soon, but I am still reeling in the smile and ecstatic reactions given when DJ Lance made his real life appearance on stage.  The best buzz I've had in years...

*Good People.  I was able to spend time with the Utah Motorsports Foundation at their annual auction and dinner last weekend, and was reminded of how deeply the love for my little guy flows even into people who do not get the opportunity to know him like I do.  Love being there.

*How could I survive without a husband like mine? Last evening I left in kind of a bummer mood to go to dinner with friends.  As I was leaving, feeling stressed, rushed and nagging like crazy, I said, "Okay, I'm leaving."  He looked at me and sincerely said, "Have fun.  I am glad you have good friends and are going."  AND THEN...I came home to laundry FOLDED and PUT AWAY! Sadly for him, I returned home in a full pity-party ensemble...and he got to listen to tears and negativity.  Probably not the homecoming he deserved. Sure love him.

*Again, and again - good friends and family. I don't let people really inside me lots; in fact, I tend to push away.  I feel the need to be stoic and brave and strong, and I don't like it for people to see I'm not that way all the time.  I am kinda weird like that. Good friends see this, and cut me some slack.  They don't judge my tears or random strange blurt-outs during our conversations...they just listen.  Listen and help; help without asking.  I have been very lucky in my life to have several people like this, and could not have made it through some days with my sanity intact without them.
See...I feel better already.

Chapter Four - Fire

He got a little lost, which made him a little late... but he came.

And, he smelled real, real good.

He wore light brown cargo pants, a dark blue button-up shirt, and crispy clean Carolina blue and white tennis shoes.
His eyes were crystal clear ocean blue...
....and reminded me of home.
His hair was the fresh bionic yellow white color of a new home-spun bleach job.

Bleached hair was hot.

I answered the door, anxious to leave, knowing that my mother was not happy about this.
She knew this date was different, and she kinda liked the other guy.

My attempt to weasel in and outside the door quickly did not give me a sufficient amount of time to avoid my mother's presence and stare-down as I walked away.

But, this time, I was doing this for me.

I soon realized my friend had been right about the date.

He and I were alone in the car and were meeting another couple at a restaurant.

Definitely not a group activity.

He opened car doors and asked my opinion on music.

He had recently spent a few years serving a mission in Arcadia, California.

East L.A and Pasadena will help one to develop a taste for Hip Hop - trust me.

So, we played Biggie.

Romantic - maybe not.

Endearing...absolutely.

Nothing warms my heart like Biggie,Tupac, and a little Jay-Z ( they still do).

Honestly, between the pounding of my heart, and the infusion of adrenaline...I didn't do a whole lot of listening.
I just sat in my seat, created small talk, and attempted to reinstate blood flow to my extremities.

He was the most beautiful person I had ever been that close to.

We met the other couple at the Olive Garden, and then attempted to meet a few others for bowling.

It was Halloween, so the lanes were too crowded.

We opted to go to someones home and watch a movie.

The Waterboy.

We sat stiffly next to one another.

I placed my hand on my knee, in perfect hand-holding position.

He was a gentleman.
It didn't happen until the movie had almost ended.

He scratched my back and shivers were sent down my spine.

I let the mind begin to wander...

Is he going to ask me out again?

If he doesn't, does that mean he doesn't like me?

If he does, what does that mean?

My whole being felt magnetized to his.

It was chemistry bordering on the verge of combustion.

We walked slowly to the car.
"Hey, I'd like to see you again...soon."

The words felt like gold.

Strong, burning, golden yellow rays of summer sunshine.

"Okay."

Words are hard to find when you are on fire.

Chapter Three - Trash Bags and Dates.

Going to the gas station had developed new meaning.

A new meaning that had absolutely nothing to do with grabbing a Pepsi or fueling my silver Honda Civic.

Its' meaning was fueling my soul, and completely tripping me out.

I was given a heads-up from the guy with the info as to what night Chevron guy happened to be working the coming week.

So I prepared...

I re-showered, blew-out my hair, and dressed in my shortest pair of shorts. 

(Back in the day when short shorts actually would've looked good on me)

It was about 7:00 or 8:00 at night, completely dark...and the five mile drive felt like 500.

I pulled in the station, looked inside the window where the cashiers often stood, and did not see him.

Great. 

I put my less than $5 worth of gas in my tank and headed inside to pay the cashier.

The cashier was a worker I was familiar with (well, actually I knew them all by that point), but he was acting extremely weird. 

"Uh...do you want a car wash too? I'll give you a car wash."

"Sure..."

The worker kept dragging the conversation on..and on...

I eventually escaped and left the building to begin walking to my car.

This is ridiculous.
Seriously, Jenny...Get a freaking grip...you have a boyfriend (albeit a boyfriend across the country)...but, regardless...get OVER this silly game.

As I walked the twenty or so yards to my car, I turned around and glanced inside. 

The guy who had acted so strangely was running like crazy to the back of the store, yelling something I couldn't hear and pointing in the direction of ....me.

That's when I saw him.

The Guy.

His co-worker handed him a couple of trash bags and he began walking towards the door.

My heart died - literally died. 
I think I was operating strictly in survival mode.

He opened the outside doors and began walking towards me
....me....

He was nonchalantly carrying trash bags, glancing away from my direction just enough to seem busy.

"Hey."

Oh man...he had a voice.

"Hi." I answered casually...as if I hadn't just spent two hours primping for my trip to the local gas station.

"Uh, do you want to take out the trash with me?"

What?

Instinctively I answered, "Uh...no. Don't think I want to do that."

Nice, real nice Jen...

"Oh, okay." he replied, sounding rather shocked that I had said no.

But, really, trash?

"Well...a group of us are getting together this weekend, do you want to come?"

What was that?  A date? A non-date? Seriously?

"Sure." 

As if I was going to say no.

"Okay. I'll give you the details in a few days."

"Okay. Bye."

One month, several heart attacks and a few possible pysch woard admittances had built to this climax...
...a 25 second conversation.
But, I didn't care.

It had happened.

There was going to be actual human interaction.
And, I was pretty sure that was what I wanted.

When I pulled into my drive way, I noticed one of my guy friends had been waiting for me.

(He was waiting with a broken heart, courtesy of my best friend)

Sadly, I'm sure I only pretended to listen to his story...sadness and elation don't typical carry each other well...and I was certainly...elated.

I asked his opinion as to whether or not I was actually going on a date, or if this was just a "thing" to do with friends.

"Trust me Jen, it's a date.  He just didn't want to commit to calling it a date in case you didn't want to go on one with him.  It's what we do."

Yes, a date.

Chapter Two - Tattoo

I waited, and waited and waited.

I hadn't realized how much I'd really counted on the lunch guy coming back with some information about his conversation with the guy at Chevron, until the dang guy didn't show up.

There were a few days at lunch that came and went with no sign of the guy who had days earlier seemed so determined to spill the beans on my stalking secret.  I'd leave my bowling class (yes, I took bowling) and head to the Cafeteria with my friend, lightheaded and barely breathing.  Only to feel my heart sink when the new guy with the info wasn't around. 

How was I allowing this guy who'd I barely even spoken to dictate my mood for the day?

I didn't like it, and neither did my friend.

For reasons still unknown to me, my friend began filling my mind with negative stuff.  Saying things like, "Come on - like this is really going to happen. Get real."

One night, in the "not knowing any new info" period of time, my friend became really mean and told me I was being ridiculous for believing this guy was actually possibly interested.

It was not cool to say those things to me, so I walked out of the house.

But, really, he was right.

I was slowly taking off my pretty red shoes and preparing to hand them over to some guy who was working at the local gas station.

But, man...there was just something about this guy.

A few days and one weekend later, I was back at school and eating lunch with my friend.  I had gotten over the suspense of pending information, assumed the irrational hope had been shut down, and was back to rocking my heels.

Then, he showed up.

Crap.

All rational women's lib. thought processes were quickly pushed aside...and my heart began entering cardiac arrest city.

"Hey Jenny...he's going to ask you out," said with a smirky little brother-ish kind of attitude.

"No way. He doesn't even know who I am,"  I said quickly and snidely.

"Uh, ya he totally does. You go to Chevron a lot, remember?"

Busted.

"He thought you had a boyfriend because you are always with guys."

(Well, at least that part of my stalking plan had merit)

"Well, we'll see..." I said with apprehension and arrogance.

I'm positive every person in that room could see through the vague mask I was wearing in defense of my pride.

We walked to our cars in the parking lot on the opposite side of campus after lunch was over.

It may have been the cool October breeze mingled with remnants of Summer temperatures...

...but for some reason it felt as if I was walking on air...

"Jenny, by the way - he has a tattoo," said the guy with the info.

I kinda like tattoos.

Chapter One - Pretty Red Shoes.

There was this guy.

THE guy.

The guy who made my heart stop in a way that I thought I just may actually die.

The guy who I had seen just once or twice before at a few group gatherings with mutual friends. Always only partly there, preferring to sit on the sidelines and let his buddy be the center of attention.

I made sure this guy was a part of my day.

...Way before he even knew it...

Stopping to get $2 worth of gas - every.single.day.

Fountain drinks and candy stops were another easy shield, heaven knows I don't go a day without either of those.

Sometimes I took a group of my guy friends with me, on purpose.  I had to throw a little "hard to get" into the mix, especially considering that I was bordering on the verge of desperate crazy stalker with as often as I appeared around the joint. Sometimes I took my girl friends with me. They would always try to force me inside the building, you know, actually try to "talk" to this guy who had siphoned his way into my daily stream of thought processing.

I always resisted.

I never thought for one second he would be interested in me.

I was in my last year of College, recently re-enrolled at Weber State University.

My best friend had just left for Utah State, and I was on my own.

I was in a good place. 

But, man...getting to that place had involved a whole lot of barefoot walking.
And, trust me...those bare feet were walking on some pretty nasty trails.

I had been in love before; a love that fueled my co-dependant, daughter of a recovering alcoholic fire.

The coals of that love had finally simmered to a point where I allowed myself to step away, outside of the smoke, and receive insight as to the person I could actually attempt to be -all.by.myself.

Once the smoke cleared, I began to recognize that I had missed out on some pretty awesome sight-seeing.

So, I explored; explored the values that had been etched inside of me, and began a path of figuring out if they were worth keeping around.  It wasn't long before I realized they were there to stay.

I was actually dating, which really was a first for me. I had a few pretty terrible experiences my first two years in High School, and then spent the last year attached and exclusive.

I was feeling confident; making new friends in classes, giving phone numbers away to guys whom I never dreamed would ever in a million years ask. 

It was new terrain, and this time I wore shoes.
Pretty red ones.

I ate lunch on campus every day with a good friend at the time, who happened to be a guy.

We began getting to know a few others in the cafeteria and a lunch group semi-formed.

One day, during the course of lunch conversation and small talk, we began giving my friend a hard time about a girl. He always went to the same Zions Bank to see a particular teller, but never dared to ask her name, and certainly not her number.  As the conversation deepened, and I sensed my friend getting more uncomfortable, I loyally interjected,"Hey...it's not that bad. I do that too. Everyone does.  I stop and see the guy at Chevron and put $2 worth of gas in my car all the time."

Silence.

"Wait...who do you see?" 

A voice from a person who I had only recently gotten to know through this lunch group, spoke up.

Crap.

My friend told him, because he knew - I had made him take me there to see him.

(So much for loyalty.)

"Really? I know him, like really well. He is my friend's brother's best friend. I see him all the time."

Double.Crap.

"I'm going to talk to him tonight.  He has a girlfriend, but no one likes her."

(I still don't like her)
I had to make a scene and throw a pretend fit about this guy at our table saying something, but let's get real...

I really did want the guy to know.

I wanted him to know, but I was absolutely certain it was going to lead to absolutely nothing.
 "Chevron Guy" would not be interested (he did have a girlfriend) and I would have to buy gas 20 miles away for the rest of my life.

Oh ya, and the fact that I had boyfriend/missionary/guy who had just sent me pictures of rings to choose from, didn't make things any less complicated.
But, maybe...just maybe...Chevron Guy would actually care.

I was beginning to discover this new place of scenic independence could be quite interesting.

*Disclaimer: I've felt like I wanted to do this for some time...not with the intention to really share my love story with the world ...but, to share it with my kids.
One day when my girl is grown up and in love, I want her to know that I was too.  
...that amidst the meals, and moves and taking care of life...her dad and I were/are in
 love. 
Even though love grows to take different forms over the years, our love began like this.  Probably a lot like her love will, and probably a lot like many of your loves began as well.
I know that I can write this in several other formats, but I also know that doing so would most likely prevent me from sharing these thoughts with the one guy who may actually want to hear them.  The guy I married :) So, yes, this is personal...but, sharing personal stuff is kinda who I am.