starting over

The Second Year…Starting Over

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

death year 2 2As I roll into year two, I wonder, what will be different? Instead of climbing upward, I seem to be spiraling down. Not a great feeling. I thought I had a handle. Thought I was in control. Two hands on the wheel. Steering straight ahead. But there’s a fork in the road. And I’m not sure which way to turn. Right? Left? Ugh! No one gave me a road map for this. No directions on how to get through. So I close my eyes, turn and see where I land.

So here’s the deal. The first year I was cruising. I kind of knew what to expect. All the grieving process. They tell you about it. Whatever you feel, it’s okay. Denial. Check. Anger. Check. Bargaining. Check. Depression. Never got there. Acceptance. Check. And now I’ve graduated. Second year. A milestone in my grief journey. But here’s reality. It’s harder. It’s real.  

Year one. In some ways, that was the easy year. I had excuses. Greg had just died. I was dealing. One month. Three months. Six months. Whatever the time. I was dealing. And everyone was okay with that. Right away people were there. Lots of people. And slowly they disappeared. They had their own lives. Life goes on. And so did they. I got it. Some people stayed. But I needed to find my way. Discover me. I started the journey. Writing. My road to discovery. I wrote about our love. Our past. Our memories. Gregger. It kept everything alive. But now what? I want to keep writing. It’s my way of talking. When there’s no one here, I can “tap, tap, tap” away. I can erase, rewrite, over and over again. No one answers back. But I get to empty out my brain. I lovingly call this my “drug of choice.” Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

SAMSUNG
SAMSUNG

I survived the first year. Yeah me! But now I’m faced with a whole new set of circumstances. Suddenly things are very real. Undeniable. I know he’s gone, but I still keep expecting him to show up. My head knows he won’t. But my heart wishes he will. I don’t want to believe. But I know I must. And that’s the real truth. Battle of brain and heart. And not a damn thing I can do about it.

I passed all the tests. I’ve taken care of things all year. “B.S.” crap. Things I never thought I’d be able to handle. But I did. Yeah me! I’m proud of myself, but I never wanted the job. Still don’t.

So the part that still sucks. Every morning I get in my car. I’m okay. And then some “mushy” song comes on. And there’s Gregger. All around me. My heart beats. Fast. I see him in the clouds. I hear him in my head. And I fight back the tears. It still happens. Year two.

I feel uncertain. I made decisions. I made changes. But now what? Where do I go from here? I made it through year one. Now, what do I do in year two? What’s the game plan? All of a sudden I feel lost again. Gregger, I need you back to tell me what to do. But you’re not coming. I must figure this out alone. And that’s the part that sucks. Reality.

I’ve lost time. What happened to the past year? Where did it go? Did I just lose it? What will happen to the next year? And the one after that? I don’t just want them to fly away with grief. I want to live. I know the sadness will creep in. I know I will cry. I know I will be angry. But in between those moments there has to be life. I don’t want to lose any more time. It’s far too precious.  death year 2

My patience is waning. With people, things, myself. Little things. Stupid things. I need to breathe. Take a moment. Realize that it will be okay. I don’t like this side of me. But I need to accept. It’s all part of the process. Grief.

I need a plan. Something to look forward to. A future. Something with promise. Anything but just “being.” I’m not sure what that is. When I know, it will be exciting.

This is a beginning. Facing the truth. Reality. Watch out year 2. I’m coming.

death year 2 3

all the words

It’s All in the Words

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

wayne 3I love quotes. Starting collecting years ago. Pages and pages. Categorized. Alphabetized. A little obsessed. But I love my quotes. At times, they comfort me. I find solace in the words. Peace. When life becomes difficult, I find words. It works. For me. I recently “lost” one of my favorite motivators. And what I discovered about his loss was even more remarkable. The parallels to my life. The connections. Unreal. He died on August 30th. One year after Gregger’s passing. Same day. In Maui. The same place Gregger left this earth. Dr. Wayne Dyer. A self-help guru who made sense of my world when it was upside down. Real words that lifted me. Made me think. Recharged my batteries. And helped me focus on abundance, gratitude, and blessings when life seemed anything “but.” wayne 2

Good morning world. Words of positivity. A focus. Why not? “Be miserable. Or motivate yourself. Whatever has to be done, it’s always your choice.” So what are my options? At this point. Only one. Move forward. Keep one foot in front of the other. Lately it has not been as easy. I am trudging. Digging my foot out of the sand. I was so sure of my direction. I am sure. But life is moving slower than I want. So I’m struggling with decisions. And my anchor is no longer here. I can’t ask for his help. What do I do? I have to decide alone. Much harder now.

“When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way.” So I try. Enjoy the moments. But when I want to get there faster, it’s hard. When I want to get to the finish line and hurdles keep coming, what do I do? I keep jumping higher. Faster. More passion. More intensity. Eye on the prize.  

“It makes no sense to worry about things you have no control over because there’s nothing you can do about them, and why worry about things you do control? The activity of worrying keeps you immobilized.” So very true. Let it go! I keep trying to control the uncontrollable. Sell the house. Make the move. Settle down. Impossible! All I can do is sit back and let the cards fall where they may. It would just be easier if I could lay them out. Perfectly. One on top of the other. Stacked. In order. But life is not about order. Plans. Or control.

“You cannot always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside.” So for today. Tomorrow. And the weeks to come, I will try. Because that’s the best I can do. Try.

wayne

prayer

The Power of Prayer

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

prayer 4I am veering off path for a moment. This is not about a fairytale. Not about loss. Not about moving on. It’s not even about me. Or Gregger. I woke up yesterday morning and was smacked in the face. Again. In the past several months, I have encountered so much heartache. Pain. Sickness. Death. Not necessarily in my life. But in the lives of others. Friends. Acquaintances. Family. Strangers. I’ve learned. Everyone has “something.” Some have it a little “better.” Some a little “worse.” How that is defined, I’m not really sure. I keep getting punched. In the gut. The heart. When does it stop? I don’t think it does. It’s all part of life.

I cried this morning. Not for me. But because I felt helpless. I wanted to reach out. Touch. Do something. For a friend. Fighting a battle. I know this must be what others felt when Gregger died. Not knowing what to say. What to do. Wanting to be there. To hug. To hold. Just to be. But you can’t always do that. So you feel helpless. As I do now. And the answer that came to me was prayer. Odd for someone who is nonobservant. But prayer has no boundaries. It is a message of hope. It transcends all denominations, all beliefs. Never too young or old. Prayer can be silent or spoken. It can simply be a time of reflection. A time to be grateful. A time to seek comfort. A time to ask. A time to be mindful. prayer 1

I believe there is power. Power in prayer. Power in positivity. Messages of strength. Hope. Faith. And love. I felt this and continue to feel this every day. If we each send one word, one thought of positivity to those who are suffering, those in pain, our prayers can be an impenetrable force. So I am asking. My friends. Family. Band together. Today. Tomorrow. For my friend. For others. For those you know. And those you don’t know. Those who are hurting. Those who need a little more hope. A little more love. Whatever you choose. However, you choose to do it. A powerful message to light up the world. Let’s make this happen. It’s the greatest hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Thank you. I love you all. Peace.

prayer 3

struggle

Struggling

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

grief in waves 3I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble lately. Well, maybe I do. My life is in disarray. Turmoil. Disorder. I like order. Control. I feel as though I’m on the edge of a teeter-totter. Hanging down. Bouncing up. Teetering side to side. Not sure where I’ll land on any given day. Unsettling. It makes it difficult to find the words. But sometimes they come from other places. Just when I need it most. My son, Ryan, sent me beautiful words today. Words that made sense of my unsettled world. Words that brought me onto a straight plane. Rather than one that was teetering off balance.

grief in waves 2After feeling unsettled at a social event, these words comforted me. I no longer felt as alone as I did standing there. Standing and staring at couples holding hands. Watching couples interact. Thinking about once being a part of a pair. And now being just one. I wanted to wear a banner. A t-shirt. “My husband was so amazing God made him an angel and he watches me from above.” Truth. Or, “I’m not a widow. I’m a wife. My husband awaits me on the other side.” Truth. But, the real truth. I am a widow. And driving away, I felt sad. Empty. The teeter had tottered to the ground. I just had to figure out how to bring it back up. These words reminded me. It’s all part of the journey. It never goes away. It just changes. Grief. It will always be a part of me. Sometimes it will hide in my pocket. Other times, it will pop out and hit me smack in the face.

grief in waves“Grief. You’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating.For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.” I have been here. I have survived this wave. I have hung on. Gregger’s wedding band hangs around my neck. He is always close to my heart. I see his face on my phone, my computer, all around my house. He is near. These are the memories that keep him alive.

“In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t eve give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”

This 75-foot wave caught me off guard. I wasn’t prepared. I should have been. A year later I know the signs. But I’ve been on cruise control. I’ll ride the wave. Let it crash into shore. Feel the pain. And sail out again. The scars I bear will be a testament to the life we had together. One filled with love, laughs, and memories. One that I was not ready to give up. One that ended far too soon. But one that I cherish with all my heart. I will survive this wave. And the next. And the one after that. Knowing that the ride is all part of the journey. My journey. To find peace.

grief in waves 4

the silence

The Silence

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

silenceFor the past year, I have spent more time in the space of my mind than I have for the past 61 years. I never really thought about the time I was alone. I filled the spaces. I knew the emptiness was short-lived. I knew Gregger was always coming back. To fill the space. The silence. But living alone is different. Hours go by without speaking. Hours where it’s just me. Inside my head. And I have to decide. Good thoughts. Bad. Angry. Sad. I have control. I can turn the switch. On. Off. Louder. Softer. I can change the “station.” Change my thoughts. Change my attitude. It sounds so elementary. Technically it is. Emotionally, maybe not.

silence 2I enter my “space” and immediately want noise. Lucy greets me with yaps, tongue kisses. But then the silence is deafening. I can overstimulate with TV or computers, but that doesn’t fill the “space.” It doesn’t answer back. It’s still silent. It’s still just me. Find the peace.

Being the oldest of five, I grew up in noise. I didn’t know the meaning of silence. I’d hide in my room to escape noise. But I’d find more noise. TV. Music. Phone. I cannot fall asleep without background TV. Gregger and I fought over the sleep timer. He’d turn it on. I’d turn it off. Noise all night long. Anything to block out the silence.

“Silence is not an absence of sound but rather a shifting of attention toward sounds that speak to the soul.”

silence 1I think back to my first Savasana. The final pose in yoga. The deepest pose of relaxation when all thoughts should leave the mind. Impossible. I could not do it. I would check off my grocery list. Plans for the week. Where I needed to go. What I needed to do. Anything but emptying my mind. Slowly, I began to experience the silence. I quieted my mind and as I drifted away, I would bring it back to the emptiness. At first, I lasted 15 seconds. Soon it was 30 seconds. And, before I knew it, I was able to be “silent” for the full savasana. I did not want it to end. Sometimes tears trickled down my cheeks. Where did they come from? I’d open my eyes and taste the saltiness in my mouth. I was deep in silence, yet somewhere else.

I go back to this “space” now. But I don’t need a mat. A class. A special room. I can be anywhere. My eyes open. Heart open. Mind open. The “silence” is my friend. I now have the courage to look inside. It has taken me on this journey of grief. It has helped me discover me at a difficult time. But I’ve realized I can survive. Silence is my friend. It teaches me. To befriend myself. To listen. To learn. To be mindful. Without the “silence,” there would be no time for growth. No time to feel. The joy. The sadness. The anger. The love. The hope. And what could be better than that.

Sit in the silence. Listen. To your heart. Your soul. Your breath. Your feelings. No judgments. No critiques. No scrutiny. Find your peace. It is there. Waiting for you. The serenity of silence.

Take a moment of silence to remember today…

911

dont wait

Don’t Wait

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

US openI spent Labor Day weekend consumed with the U.S. Open. I am a tennis junkie. I guess that goes back to when the boys played, and it stuck. But I should not be watching alone. This was something Gregger and I did together. And this year we were supposed to be in New York. At the Open. That was the plan. But plans change. Life changes. And I’m here watching the matches on TV. Not in person. Not in New York. Not with Gregger. We had a lot of plans. We had our bucket list. In the last five to ten years, we were checking it off. But we had a long way to go.

When you’re young you think you have the whole world in front of you. There’s always tomorrow. We put things off forever. Or so it seemed. First it was a house. Kids. A bigger house. Kid expenses. College. It never ended. So we delayed our bucket list. In the last ten to fifteen years, things changed. The kids were grown. We were settled. Life was good. So we started “checking off.” But it took some convincing. Some nudging. Gregger would have been happy working nonstop. Stuck in his routine. I had to pull him out of it. Sometimes it meant tacking on a “bucket list item” to business. But I was okay with that. However we did it, we did it. Check. don't wait

Last year, my “bucket list” included being able to walk again. First a few steps. Then maybe a mile. The ultimate, climb Pinnacle Peak. Get back to OTF.  I never thought I’d be able to do those things. I could barely sit or climb stairs. Now I’m running, working out every day. I believe “someone” is watching over me. Check.

I always dreamed of writing. Or to share my writings with others. Strange how things work out that way. Not the way I planned it. Maybe part of someone else’s plan. That’s okay. Check.

Going back to Hawaii was a big one. Ending the way it did was not. And now we will never finish the bucket list we shared.  A new house closer to the store. African Safari. Australia.Washington, D.C. I was there. Gregger was not.  We planned to “train it” from NYC. The perfect plan. I guess not. And the biggest one. The one we were planning for January. The one we’d been planning for our 25th, our 30th, and our 35th. But life kept getting in the way. Renewing our vows for our upcoming 40th anniversary. All part of OUR Bucket List. The list we will never check together. But one I will try to fulfill on my own. A journey I will travel. And always know that Gregger is with me. In my heart. By my side.

bucket listBut YOU have today. YOU can fill your bucket list. They can be simple. Close to home.  Whatever your hopes. Whatever your dreams. DON’T WAIT. Don’t put off ’til tomorrow what YOU can do today. I learned tomorrow may be too late. We were lucky. We had a lot of tomorrows. We filled our bucket about 3/4 full. I was blessed. But I would have loved to fill it to the top. With Gregger. Not alone. I just don’t have that chance. But you do.  What are YOU waiting for?

Five years ago I wrote to myself: “Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from it everything that you possibly can.” 

bucket list 1

 

new beginnings

New Beginnings

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

new beginnings 2Most frequently asked question, “Why did you move to San Diego?” Friends? Family? Neither. The truth. New beginnings. Second most frequently asked question, “Do you like living in San Diego?” YES. “Why?” The people. “What is different?” They are kind. Compassionate. Welcoming. But, in all truth, I believe it’s also me. I am looking at life through different lenses. You’d think it would be colorless. Less focused. Isolated. But it’s not. It’s brighter. Clearer. But something else has changed. Me. I am different. I’ve tried to put my finger on it. And I think I finally figured it out. It goes back. Way back. Probably back to when I was a child.

I was shy. As a child, I held up my hand for people to kiss me. Don’t get too close. The walls were up. Brick. Glass. Hard. Protection. If they didn’t get close, they couldn’t hurt me. As I got older, people judged me as reserved. Cold. Snobby. I was not. Never. I was scared. Afraid of getting hurt. Lacking self-esteem. Did Not Believe In Myself. Gregger did. He pounded it into my head. I just didn’t get it. He’d tell me I could do anything, be anything. He tried to convince me I was worth more than I made myself out to be. I never believed it. I believed him. Just not “it.” I tried. I’m getting it now. I wish I could tell him. But I think he knows. I hope he does. I hope he knows what he did for me. Gave me the strength to be “me.”new beginning

I was always somebody else’s “something or other.” “Nancy and Buddy’s” daughter, “Greg’s wife,” “Adam, Ryan, and Ashley’s mom.” I never really thought about it until now. Growing up, it was, “who are your parents?” Living in Scottsdale, it was, “What do you do?” I was either, “Greg’s wife” or the “kid’s mom.” We owned the businesses, but they were all Gregger, not me. Don’t get me wrong. I loved my roles. I loved who I was. I just never realized, I was never just me.  

But moving to a new city, I was just Mikki. No background. No baggage. No walls. Whatever I handed out was up to me. I wear my heart on my sleeve. You know that. I don’t hide. My thoughts. Emotions. The good. Bad. Ugly. Sad. I tell it all. So I’ve put it out here too. People see me for me. I tell my story. And then I move on. A new beginning. The walls have come tumbling down. And it feels so good. Thank you Gregger. For teaching me. For loving me. For believing in me. I carry you in my heart. Every. Single. Day.

new beginnings 3

home again

Home Again

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

“Home is where you go to find solace from the ever-changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return.”

home 1Love, support, friendship. I was blessed this past weekend. I was blessed to be surrounded by family and friends. I wasn’t sure about my decision. I was feeling guilty. I thought I should be with my kids. But it all turned out for the best. Everyone ended up right where they were supposed to be. Sometimes life makes our choices for us. And they turn out okay. I want to believe that’s what happened. Because we did okay. It was tough. Sad. But being surrounded by people who love you is a gift.

I went “home” again. Back to my beginnings. The place that defined me. But also a place that made me want to be something else. Something different. Something better. I wanted to come back a “better” me. And I believe I did that. A “better me” who was grateful for roots. Foundation. A “better me” who recognized all the blessings of “home.” I’ve come home many times before. I’d see people. Share memories. And leave. But this time people were there. Not just for social engagement. But for me. They embraced me at a time I needed it most. I felt the love. The warmth. The friendship. The camaraderie of fifty plus years. Indescribable. The bond, never ending.

homeMy parents. My sister. Life-long family friends. All gathered to share Gregger’s memory. To honor him on Sunday. Some knew him. Some did not. It made no difference. That’s what being home is all about. It felt good to be home. To sleep in my old room. To drive by my old school. Relive memories. See “old” friends. There is something to be said about coming home again. As the old saying goes, “There’s no place like home.”

And then I flew to my “new” home. Lucy and me. Not back to the home where Gregger and I lived for 38 years. Not back to the home where I raised my three kids. Not back to the home where all our memories were made. My home. New beginnings. And I knew I was home Tuesday morning. I walked into OTF for my morning workout. So excited to get the blood flowing. See friends. And welcoming me back, loud and clear, was Gregger. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Playing. I melted. But I knew. I was right where I was supposed to be. Home.

home 2

For those who don’t know the significance of “the rainbow,” check out “The Rainbow” @atruelovefairytale.com from May 8th, 2015. 

greg eveloff

Gregger’s Legacy…Today It Begins

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment
The grand poopah!
The grand poopah!

I’ve started writing this post over and over again. I’ve gone in so many different directions. But the same thing keeps coming back to me. I am overwhelmed with the abundance of love and support that overflowed on Sunday for Gregger. Facebook messages, texts, phone calls, collages, and more. It was endless. It is still coming. But the messages had a common bond. And that’s what keeps coming back to me.

One message stated, “ When someone like Greg leaves us, and because of his special personal magnitude of impact in all our lives, it’s like trying to fill a huge universe black hole. So incredibly vast and infinitely impossible to fill!! A true testimony to a spirit that changed all our lives for the better. Thanks, Greg, for making me a better man.”

This was the universal message. His compassion for life and family. The impact he had on so many lives he touched. He never said anything. He never let anyone know when he “did” anything. It was subtle. He was quiet. But he did it. Big or small. And he obviously left his mark on this world.

kindness gives (1)We can all do it too. Imagine this world if we could all leave such a legacy behind? So for one day, two, three, a month, a year, let’s try to live like Gregger. Let’s share his legacy. Be kind. Compassionate. Listen. It’s the simple things.

“We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.”

  • Smile at a stranger, just because.
  • Let cars merge or enter the freeway or busy street- stop road rage.
  • If the person behind you at the grocery store has one or two items, let them go ahead.
  • Hold the door open for a few people to walk through.
  • Give up a parking space. It’s not worth the fight.
  • Fill out that survey for a Target or Best Buy employee. It takes a few seconds and means the world to them.
  • Help a mother with a stroller, an elderly person with their groceries.
  • Send a friend a card, just because.
  • Compliment a stranger on their dress, shoes, or smile. It really doesn’t matter as long as it’s sincere.
  • Give a hug.

There are hundreds of little ways to make a difference. To do the right thing. The good thing. This is what Gregger did EVERY DAY. This is how he touched people. This is why people are reminded to live just a little better. Be good. Do good. Live good. That is the legacy I think of when I say his name.

So today begins the “Gregger Chain of Goodness.”

Reach out and touch…with your heart, your words. You never know what someone is going through, but a kind word can make a world of difference in a person’s life. It sure made one in mine. 

kindness gives

thank-you

Thank You

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

DSC_0077 (1)I’ve made it through the worst of times. Death. Firsts. And now it’s time to say “thank you.” I  need to divert from the blog for a bit. I would not have made it here without YOU. Family. Friends. Strangers. You helped me reach this road. You’ve been by my side on this journey. A journey that continues. A journey that looks toward the future instead of looking back in the past. I will always remember. I will hold the memories in my heart forever. And you have helped me. You have supported me in ways I never dreamed possible. You have given me strength when I thought my world was falling apart.

Someone asked me the other day, “Are you overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support?” How is that even possible? At the beginning I felt alone. My best friend was gone. There will always be an empty space in my heart. But thanks to you, I don’t feel alone anymore.  People ask, “Where do you find your strength?” I find it from YOU. All of you. Family, friends, and those I’ve never met but touch me every day. You embrace me with your kind words. You touch my heart when I touch yours. It comes full circle. When I hear I am giving others strength, it makes me stronger. When I hear I give hope, I know tomorrow is a brighter day. Positivity is a magnet. It attracts goodness, kindness, compassion. We give, we get. Thank you.

I thought this anniversary would be the most difficult day since August 30th, 2014. But thanks to you, I’ve approached it with new life. I thought long and hard about my choices. I could spend the time being sad. Grieving more. Or I could celebrate Gregger in all his glory. Celebrate his life. His loves. His passion.

To those I’ve never met but am so grateful for: The messages. Email. Facebook. They are so heartwarming. I want to reach through the airwaves and hug you. I want to touch your hand. Thank you for touching mine. You have no idea. I hope we can meet someday. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Truly.

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

To my friends: I hope you know who you are. I wish I could name each and every one of you individually. Some of you have been around for years. Some of you came back into my life. Some of you I recently met, but you are my dearest friends. I would not be here without you. Supportive. Loving. Kind. Messages. Phone calls. Checking in. I am so grateful. 

“Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

IMG_2071To my family: From day one. You have been there for me. I remember calling my mom and dad. Screaming. Sobbing. They were in the parking lot at Costco. But they stopped. And they have stopped every time since. My brother, Michael. Waiting outside my garage. Would not let me walk into my house alone. My sister-in-law, Cindy not far behind. My sister, Suzy, always there for me. And all my other siblings. Larry, Ellen, Linda. My nieces, nephews. Extended family. Salt Lake City. Always there for me. Always. A phone call. An email. A text. Whatever I needed. Never too early. Never too late. Thank you.

To my kids: No words. I am so blessed. Where would I be without you? Lost. In more ways than I can imagine. You have let me cry. Laugh. Share. You walked with me through the toughest roads. We’ve walked the roads together. And we will continue climbing mountains, forging valleys. Holding hands. Wrapping our arms around each other. You are my rocks. There are no words of thanks. But I know it’s not necessary either. You each have a piece of your dad in you. Even you, Tyler (I know you are reading this.) His courage. His perseverance. His integrity. His compassion. And, most certainly, his heart. I would not be here today without you. Thank you for giving me strength every day. To smile. To laugh. To move forward. To live. I love you. We will be okay. Because we always have each other. IMG_0945

“Make it a habit to tell people thank you. To express your appreciation, sincerely and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate those around you, and you’ll soon find many others around you. Truly appreciate life, and you’ll find that you have more of it.”