Christmas trees.

Putting up the tree has always been my very favorite part about the holiday season. At my house, it was an all day affair. We started with a deep clean of the front room, and made sure to turn on the Forgotten Carol's CD so that we could really get in the Christmas mood. We then proceeded to tromp out to the shed to retrieve our Christmas boxes. Starting with the tree, we slowly transformed the inside and outside of our house into a Christmas wonderland. Last year was awful. Trying to pick up the broken fragments of our lives and attempting to have a very merry Christmas was not an easy thing for any of us. This year was okay. But everytime I put up the tree is another year without my mom. Maybe I shouldn't wallow, but I should have treasured that time with her more. Often times I kick myself for not being a nicer daughter, a better helper, a more charitable person. I guess the what ifs are the hardest part.

Some days are just hard

One of the things I hate most about living away from home is that I can't go and visit my mom whenever I want to anymore. Over the past year, I have developed a habit of visiting the cemetery on particularly hard days. Even though I know that I can talk to her anywhere I am, there is something oddly comforting of knowing that I'm close to her body. I've found myself wishing for the chance to go sit beside her grave and talk to her the way I did before. Sometimes I would bring a notebook and write my feelings down through poetry, and often, I felt like she was listening to my ramblings.
I had a dream the other night that she stopped by and told me she loves me. It felt way to real and new to not have been a message from her. I remember hearing a general authority talk about how a dream about someone who has passed on is usually an actual encounter with them. It's very comforting to know that she knows what I need and is able to help in small ways like talking to my spirit while I sleep.
This last appointment has left me with the duty to mediate daily for five minutes. It has been surprising to me how much I can relax during the times that I force myself to. Although it's not nearly as much as my therapist probably would like, I am proud of myself. Today I am grateful for my mom's hugs. I swear I've never felt safer in the whole world than when I'm in her arms. There were many days where I had lovely little emotional break downs with her and we would just hug each other. I'd rather feel her arms around me now than any feeling in the whole world.

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I love you too mom. Thanks for dropping in and checking in on me. I'm trying to make you proud.
P.s. I know I've already shared this picture, but I love her smile in it.

It's snowing!

Sometimes when you wake up, you can just tell it's a Monday immediately. It's been one of those days I guess. Due to daylight savings, my sleep-wake cycle is completely out of wack and I was uber groggy when I woke up after a night filled with nightmares. I took one step outside and immediately lost feeling in my face and fingers. Winter is here. Unfortunately, it is now snowing buckets of fluff onto the ground and guess who rode her bike to campus today? o.O Why I did this, I am not entirely sure... In any case, I am actually pretty excited about winter coming because I love the snow when I am properly bundled in coats, gloves, boots, and scarves. Sledding is one of my very favorite activities, and this year I am going to finally try snowboarding if I have my way :) So although the recent weather is a source of frustration, it is also, ironically, my sunshine moment of the day. There is something very very magical about the first snow of the season. I just maybe wish it would have waited for another couple of weeks. 

Because of the snow, I am reminded of long days with my little brother in the back yard playing with the snow in all sorts of ways. I rather enjoyed hanging out with my little brother, but the best part was coming inside and having my mom make us hot chocolate. Of course, as I got older, I made it for myself. However, looking back, I really appreciated her help.

Another memory is a day when the marching band attended the Mt. Timpanogas competition. I remember running very late and asking my mom to throw some food into a grocery bag so I could eat while we were watching other bands. When inspecting the bag later on the bus, I noticed not only a ton of food, but also an extra pair of my super warm fuzzy socks. This touched me in a way that she probably didn't know. She did know that it snows every year during the Mt. Timpanogas competition, and she probably figured that by the time I was done, my socks would be soaked through and I might be miserable. That pair of socks meant the world to me, even though all it did was physically keep my toes warm. But that's how my mom is; doing everything in her power to make my life run a little bit smoother even though she was always the one who deserved special treatment. Today I miss her a ton, even though she would have hated that it was snowing.

Banana bread and Bandits

Happy Halloween!

Even though I only had one class on Thursday, I had to dress up because Halloween is my most favoritest holiday! I love the creativity of people dressing up, the pumpkin flavored everything, the cute little kids knocking on our door to beg for candy, the pumpkin carving, the fun movies about witches and warlocks, and finally, the haunted houses. Usually I spend the Halloween season with my dad going to multiple haunted houses in search of one that actually scares us(it hasn't happened yet).  Unfortunately, due to the fact that I live three hours away, I did not have the opportunity to attend with my dad. Next year though, I'm going to make up for it!

Today I am grateful for when my mom would make banana bread. Even though it didn't happen often, I loved the way she would make the whole house smell heavenly and I had a nice warm loaf waiting for me on the counter.

Temple trips and rose gardens

This past week I had the extraordinary opportunity to participate in  my ward's temple night. I had never been to the St. George temple, and I was very interested considering how much history is involved with the temple. We all loaded up in our little car pool, and for the simple reason of amazing car companions, the forty five minute road trip went by ridiculously fast. Walking into the temple, it felt like a dropped a heavy backpack off my back. It was the most amazing sense of relief I have felt in a while. The whole process was very intriguing, as it was different in some ways versus my experiences in the Provo temple. It was small and intimate, whereas the Provo temple is always crowed and sometimes feels too full of people. The architecture of the building was phenomenal, and it just reaffirmed my testimony of the church. If the struggling, poverty-stricken saints in early St. George history could build such a magnificent building with such detail with very little resources, they must have believed that this temple was vital to their salvation. It was beautiful.

Because I was only the third one in the group of like twenty five to go through the process, I was left with time on my hands and I decided to explore the grounds of the temple. As soon as I walked out of the doors, my eyes were drawn to a small sitting area in the corner of the field that was lit up. As I ventured closer, I discovered a rose garden surrounding the seating area, obviously intended for photographic purposes. As I leaned to smell one of the beautifully bloomed pink roses, I was suddenly hit with the strongest memory of my mom trimming our rosebushes at home on hot Saturdays. As she had guys around to do the mowing, she usually attended to the vast number of rose bushes on our property, and in my mind I went over the countless times she would cut flowers to put on our kitchen counter. It was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences as I sat on that cold bench remembering my mom doing something she enjoyed doing. That day I was grateful for my mom's ability to see beauty in the smallest things.

Smiles and Laughs

A new suggestion from a new therapist I have received is to keep a gratitude diary of attributes I saw in my mom. I'm not entirely sure how it will help, but I am going to start today, and have been thinking about her a lot recently.
One of the things I miss most about her is the way she lit up the room with her laugh and smile. She has the kind of smile that is incredibly infectious. It lit up her face, and gave you the feeling of getting a hug, just by looking at her. She is funny too. Her and my dad used to just bounce their jokes off each other, and I think my dad's favorite thing was when he could bring out her beautiful smile.

We were a team, she and I, and we understood each other sometimes in the most perfect moments of clarity. I miss our talks. The ones about all my petty teenage problems, about how the family was doing, and which class I was worried about. I know she is doing important work on the other side though. Someday, I hope to join her.

Adventures and Anniversaries

This past week has been the most interesting week. On Wednesday night, I got to come home for my fall break back to my family and friends. On Thursday was the one year anniversary of my mom's passing. Considering how much anxiety and dread I felt leading up to the day, it went along relatively uneventful. I was definitely occupying myself with my besties in order to keep myself safe and numb. My psychologist suggested creating a ritual to honor my mom on that day, and I chose to make strawberry cupcakes, as that was one of my favorite activities we used to do together. It helped in some ways, in most ways, however, it just made me sad that she wasn't there to participate and crack the eggs open for me. In other news, my tall red-headed "husband" had his farewell talk as he is leaving on Nov 6 to go to Mexico on his mission! Due to the fact that I am currently living three hours away, this past weekend was the last time I was going to be able to adventure with him before his mission. We've been making a list for weeks now in anticipation for this fun-filled weekend. We did most of the things on the list, and I unfortunately forgot to take pictures. The whole weekend was, as a consequence, one big sunshine moment. 

We went to a soda and candy shop,

We watched Fox and the Hound because I said I wanted to watch it,

We made cupcakes in ice cream cones,

We had a picnic in the park and turned the ducks into carnivores,

We went shopping for Halloween costumes!

We tried Jamba's secret menu,

and lastly, we visited Cherry Lane Keepsakes because I said I had always wanted to go inside.

I am going to miss this boy more than I could possibly describe in words, but I am super proud of him for giving up two years of his life to go serve the people of Mexico. He has been like an older brother to me since the seventh grade when I walked up to him in the hallway and commented on his food choices in the lunchroom. He and me shared both of our first date, and he gave me a really long hug back in last year's October when I was crying my eyes out. He has been through everything under the sun with me, and still calls me his best friend :) And when I had to hug him goodbye for two years, I thought my heart would nearly break into two, but the comforting thought that he was on the Lord's errand strengthened me as I promised to write him every week; all 104 of them.

The Atonement's Influence

This past week has been a bit of a change of mindset for me, and it's all because of a book. One book, actually. The Continuous Atonement by Brad Wilcox to be exact. Now, I received this book from my very best friend for Christmas, and at the time I was a little confused. I had no idea if he was telling me that there was something he thought I needed to repent of or if he just knew I liked books, and picked one at random. In any case, much to my current displeasure, I put the book in my bookcase and thought nothing much else about it.
Let's get something straight, I absolutely love to read. I devour books just about as fast as I can get them. Lately, I have had a bit of affinity for more gospel-centered books even. Just a month ago, I had the extreme privilege of reading Paul Cardall's Before My Heart Stops. This book moved me in a way that I hadn't experienced in a very long time. If you want a good heart wrenching book, try reading this book. But anyway, back on topic. I love books. So it was abnormal that I received a book and put it on the shelf without reading it at least twice. But, around Christmas time, I had no intention of opening my heart with a book about the Atonement.

Unfortunately, when my mom died, I closed off my heart from the world, and sadly, to the only one who could ever understand what I am going through. I am pretty convinced that is why the process of becoming Mandy again has taken so long. Only very recently have I realized that closing myself off from Him is only hurting myself. I think I subconsciously I thought that letting myself dip into depression and being miserable would hurt Him. Maybe on some level, I wanted Him to feel responsible for making me this way. He took away my mom. He did this because for some reason He hates me. All of this was on a very subconscious level, because on the outside, I convinced myself that I was doing everything I could to live from day to day. Boy was I kidding myself...
Heavenly Father was hurt when I shut myself from Him. But not in the way that I thought I wanted. He was hurt because He knows that somewhere in this trial, I was going to come out stronger than I could ever imagine. He was hurt because he KNOWS I have a testimony of the Plan of Salvation, yet I turned my back and said I couldn't handle everything that I had to go through. I have realized while reading Brad Wilcox's book that I was mocking my Savior's Atonement. I convinced myself that I could handle all of this on my own, and that I was stuck in the miserable state that I let myself fall to. This directly contradicts the purpose of the Atonement. The Atonement doesn't just save us from sin and comfort us in trial (although I am very grateful for these aspects), but it also plays an important part in bringing apart the whole purpose of coming to this Earth. It redeems. The Atonement is a means to progression, something that I stopped believing in when I condemned myself to be miserable for the rest of what little bit of life I planned on letting myself have. But, like is the Savior's way, when I was in my darkest hour, He found me and reminded me that this life isn't all black and white. He reminded me that I have a testimony of the Atonement and of His grace, and that nothing could take that away from me but me. I have the power to decide how to react from trials, and at the moment, I was choosing Satan's way.  Somewhere along the path, I started worrying in my carnal, mortal-minded way that the Savior's Atonement didn't include me. Well guess what? That is exactly what Satan does best. He has a way of rooting out secret fears of being left out and festers them until they take over completely. But this line of logic couldn't be further from the truth! The Savior's Atonement not only includes me, it encompasses me, wholly and completely.
This is what I realized I had let myself forget while throwing myself into misery because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. Let me set the record straight though, I miss my mom. Completely. Absolutely miss her. There are times when I scream into the emptiness 'Why aren't you here? Where are you?!'. But I know with a perfect surety that she is still here. Her spirit walks this earth, doing missionary work on the other side of the veil. And I also know that if I do everything I can to exemplify the Savior here, like she did, I will see her again one day. I will get the opportunity to run up to her and hug her just like I did before, because that's what the Atonement is all about- love. I love you mommy. I never go a day without thinking about what you would say about how I'm living my life. I'm trying to make you proud! Talk to you soon.

Emotions

My psychologist says that I need to learn to ride out the emotions that I have when I have them. She says that linking the emotion with a fact from my environment is the first step in learning how to regulate my emotions more normally. For example, if I pulled up to a red light and I got mad, I would say "I am mad because the light is red". That's it. Period. The tricky part is realizing that your emotions are never good nor bad, THEY JUST ARE. One of my very best friends once told me that "You always have the right to feel the way you are feeling". You shouldn't excuse the way you feel, or think you are wrong. This is simply because emotions are the way your body communicates to you. This is very hard when society would have you think that emotions like 'mad', or 'sad', or 'scared' are bad emotions. Sometimes I feel like this overly-judgmental world we live in thinks it's really okay to judge someone's emotions as 'wrong' or 'right'. Growing up in a neighborhood completely filled with LDS members, it's a little more difficult to distinguish these thoughts in my ward members. However, the subtle changes of topics and sometimes the blatant opposition to negative emotions is very apparent when you experience the loss of a family member the way I have. Through this entire process, I have gotten the message that I need to 'move on' and push away the negative feelings, because if you're not happy happy happy all the time, you're wrong. Not only was this mentality incredibly hard to adapt, it's even harder to get out of after you have been damaged the way I have. All in all, releasing my emotions again has been one of the most challenging experiences. One thing that helps me is trying to find that one beautiful ray of sunshine in every day. I do believe that everyday holds a bountiful number of blessings from heaven that are just waiting to be acknowledged. So, from now on, I am going to find that 'sunshine moment' in my day, and try to focus on that instead of dwelling in my oh-so-comfortable pit of despair. So. Today's sunshine moment: I remembered to bring my favorite pair of toe socks with me to college. That's right! It's as simple and beautiful as that. You see, today's weather has been quite arctic, and I am quite confident that without my red and yellow stripy toe socks, I may not have made it to campus with all ten of my little toes. I may not have experienced as much happiness today as I did maybe a year and half ago, but it's a start. Here's to finding the red and yellow stripy toe socks of my day until I can become myself again!

A whole lot of change, and a whole lot of confusion

Sometimes things happen, and it's hard to get a grip on them. After the fact, it's easy to see what should have been done, and how I should have reacted. The last seven years of my life have been that way for me especially. I am starting this blog as a journal of sorts. A way to reflect on my journey to become Mandy again. I'm hoping to be able to look back on this blog and see the good out of all this. I am definitely a firm believer that we go stronger out of trials, and in a sense, I am putting this to test.
I also think this could be very therapeutic for me. Occasionally, amidst all of my meanderings into my deepest thoughts, I will address this blog directly to my mom. I know she is still around me, even if I can't see her. But I can feel her, and I want to have that connection again. I know the road ahead is going to be rocky, but I believe that "anything worth having, is worth doing". This has been one of my main mantras this past year. Sometimes I feel as if I am constantly chanting this to myself. So, with head up, I will face this new world of mine with the Savior by my side, hoping that little by little, I can become the Mandy I hope to be.