Hold My Hand

Henry is a fairly restless sleeper. Last night was no exception. He often needs a drink sometime in the middle of the night, and a diaper change to follow. I am used to waking up a few times a night, every night, to tend to his needs. I have been doing that the last few days with a gimpy leg. (I still need to write about my leg surgery.) I hobble into his room with my bruised/cut-up leg, trip over some toys, and make sure he is comfortable.

Pain? What pain? I am a mother; I do not believe in pain. Ouch! 

Henry is a ball of fire. He is always playing in the dirt, and now the challenge is to keep him from eating it; it is gross. He is also ready to potty train -- he keeps removing his diaper -- but I want to wait until his stints are taken out in a few weeks to really go full gusto with that. Suffice it to say, Henry is always busy and dirty. He is just a little boy, and he likes to play and explore the world. I gave him a shower yesterday, then he ran straight outside, and recovered himself in dirt.

I am trying to paint a picture of his normal activity, so you will know how sweet and profound the following story is...

Last night, I had a dream. I often dream; I think it is how God speaks to me. This dream was really painful for me. It was about Charles. I dreamt about the day he died. But instead of seeing it how I saw it in real life, I saw what was happening with Charles on the other side.

I was in my home, and Charles was there just like normal. And then a man in a dark suit knocked on the door, and told Charles it was time for him to go. Charles was a little startled, but obedient. He started walking around the house preparing some things; he was getting things in order. And then he turned to me, he told me he had to leave, and he would not be coming back. He told me he was going on a mission -- his special mission -- and hoped I would understand. Then he kept moving around quickly preparing things. There was nothing unusual about the man in a dark suit waiting at the door, he was just a normal missionary-looking type guy. He seemed in a hurry, a little saddened by the circumstances, but also business like; he had things to do, and he needed Charles to come with him. It all felt so normal and natural. There was nothing unearthly about it at all. It felt like any other time Charles had to hurry out the door to perform church business. He told me he loved me, and then he left out the front door with his new dark-suited companion. And I was left alone.

And then I woke-up.

I began to sob, and feel utter sadness; similar to what I felt the night of April 1st last year. My heart hurt so badly. The dream was a meaningful one, and very profound, but it did not lessen the aching in my heart. Sure I know Charles is doing God's work, and that is wonderful -- but I still miss him desperately. Knowing that your loved one is doing something worthy and good -- even something specific and special -- does not take away all the sorrow of being left behind to take care of the worldly knitty-gritty stuff. I am proud of him, but sad for me.

I clung to my pillow in this moment of sorrow and contemplation, and then I heard the pitter-patter of little feet. "Mama! Mama!" Henry cried out, as he walked towards my bed. He never comes in my room, he always waits for me to go to him. And yet, he held his arms up to me, and I scooped him and his blanket onto my bed. He quietly laid next to me, and then he said, "Hold my hand." I reached out for his little 3 year old fingers, and interlocked my hand with his. He squeezed my hand reassuringly, and he began to suck his thumb and drift off to sleep. I smooched his chubby cheeks.

How did he know I needed him in that very moment? 

After all those nights of tending to his needs, and comforting him; he was the one who came to my rescue.

I rested easy the remainder of the night. My sorrow slipped away, and my hand was held tightly by an angel with dirt under his fingernails.

Unshaken Faith

My faith has not been shaken. Over this last year, I have faced unspeakable challenges. I have battled with shifting emotions, and my inner most fears. I have made decisions that have caused me to shrink to my knees in weakness and sorrow. I have had my worst nightmare -- the death of my husband -- become my living reality. With all of these experiences, I have become a new creature; I am not the same.

Over the course of the year, one thing that has not changed is my faith. There was never a moment -- no, not one -- when I doubted that God lives, and that He loves me. I have walked on the hot coals of refinement, with God as my guide, and my faith is more fiery than ever.

Sometimes when bad things happen, people question their faith. They become angry, and discouraged; they blame God, or turn away from Him. This has never been the case for me. I have had reason to ask, "Why me, and why now?" Sure, I asked those things, but I was also answered quickly by God. I was also informed to change my question from, "why?" to, "what now?" Changing my question has made all the difference in understanding the answer. The, "what now?" is answered daily; in small and simple steps that I take, towards a better and brighter future.

I want you to know that I love my Heavenly Father, now more than ever. He set this vast eternal plan in motion, and mortal death is part of that plan, but so is eternal life! I cling to the hope of seeing the love of my life again. I cling to courage that all will be well, that all things will work out. Life is hard, it's true, but people are tough! We are not mere mortals, or just human... we are immortal beings having an earthly experience. It is important to keep a proper perspective.

Perspective is everything.

I lived before I was born, and I will live after I die. I am an immortal being. This mortal state is but a small moment in eternity. I need to make the most of it.

I came across this scripture today, and it made me pause and think. I love the word, "Unshaken." It means: not disturbed from a firm position or state; steadfast and unwavering. "their trust in him remained unshaken." 

2 Nephi 31:19-20

 19 And now, my beloved brethren, after ye have gotten into this strait and narrow path, I would ask if all is done? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for ye have not come thus far save it were by the word of Christ with unshaken faith in him, relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save.

 20 Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.

I have continued on with a steadfastness in Christ, and I have a perfect brightness of hope. I press forward feasting on the words of Christ, and I plan to endure to the end, and one day... eternal life. 

This journey has been a challenging one, but I can feel the fibers of my faith solidifying, and I am becoming immune to my personal brands of kryptonite. My weak places are being made strong. I am becoming a Woman of Steel. 

And that is why we are here, after all. We are meant to discover that we are not weak; we are superheroes. Inside of each of us is something of Deity, and magnificent power. Tap into that strength when times get tough -- the strength inside of you, and the Ultimate Strength above you -- and you will find yourself unshaken, no matter what. 

Now to learn how to fly...

Fun in the Sun

It has been beautiful. We have spent the last few days basking in the gorgeous sun. 

I don't want to sit long to write, so I'll be brief. I actually just had a procedure done on my leg today -- to remove some nasty and painful superficial veins -- so I am a little gimpy, and out of it. (I'll write more about my legs later, cause I am sure you want to know all the details of every aspect of my life.) 

Bodies are a lot of work, ya know? But they are also awesome! Yea for physical bodies! 

Off to go prop my bandaged, compression-sock-covered leg up. Fun! 

I should be jumping again in no time... about a month or so. 

Turning Sorrow to Sunshine in my Room

My room was filled with the color blue. It was also filled with lots of little reminders of Charles' passing, and images that had to do with focusing on the past. I had pictures of my ancestors, pioneers crossing the plains, and things of days gone by. My room felt like it was trapped in sorrow, and dwelling on history; rather than looking to the future.

I wanted to change that.

I decided it was time to turn my sorrowful room, into a room of hope and sunshine. I decided what my blue needed was the accent of yellow -- the color of joy and light. I also decided to move all of the past reminders out of my room and into the living room. I love my pictures and images of history, but I need to focus on being alive now, and I need to look to the future with hope. I feel I best honor the past by living in the now. I want my room to reflect that desire. It is my place of pondering, and I want my thoughts to be guided in the right direction -- forward, not back.

I found a bunch of bright images, with positive quotes, to place around my room. It felt so good to put away the old, and add the new. My room is now full of hope and light. It feels like a sunny day. It feels like walking into a smile. And that is exactly what I need right now. Everywhere I look there is an inspirational quote to help me keep my head up, and live for the day.

I am not quite finished with adding sunshine to my space, it is not completely put together, but these things take time. I think I have found a new favorite color though. I am kind of in love with yellow, it is such a bright, cheerful, color; the color of a smiley face.

I must say, changing things up just felt like the right thing to do. I actually like change.

Change is good.

I recently watched a Mormon message about a widow who was struggling to move forward. You can watch it: HERE. She said something in her message that struck me to the core. She said she prayed and God told her that her husband is not coming back, and she needs to move forward. That message rang in my ears, permeated my heart, and repeated itself over and over: "He is not coming back, he is not coming back."  

I still had Charles' shoes taking up half of our front closet, there were some items of his I had not removed from the house; personal items, that should be taken care of, or put in storage. After listening to that message, I felt it was time to put all his things away, once and for all. I was still feeling like he might need those shoes in the closet. I felt like maybe if I left them there, he would come and claim them. But he is not coming back. At least not in a form that would require shoes.

I am starting to realize I am going to have to move forward, without Charles. I often feel like I need to check in with him about decisions I make, or things that I do -- but I do not. The only person I need to check in with is God. He is the One guiding my future and my family. I am the one who needs to be in tune with God, so I can know what He would have me do. I am always requesting to know God's will for me and my family. I am always asking what He needs me to do, and I try and listen. I know He will not lead me astray. He loves me. He wants what is best for me.  I try to remember that when I realize so much is out of my control. All things are in His control. I need to trust Him.

I felt this a stroke of inspiration to make these subtle changes in my home. It feels great. It feels right. I feel it a step in the right direction to looking to the future with hope and faith.

As I approach the one year mark, I am eager to feel that sunshine in my soul. I am eager to move forward with faith in a bright future. I am hopeful that good things are coming. I plan to make good things happen.

You will notice that I did not remove the blue from my room; it is there still, but now it is sprinkled with yellow sunlight, and that is how it is in my heart too.

Blue and yellow. Sorrow and sunshine. They go well together.

85 Recipients

I sat in the hospital in shock. Charles had just passed away in front of my eyes. After saying my final goodbye, I returned to the nearby waiting room in the Cardiac Unit. Only moments after his death, I was approached by medical personnel with questions about organ and tissue donation. The thought made me feel sick to my stomach, and I was actually quite angry when answering question about what I would allow to be used. When it came to discussing his eyes, I was livid.

Apparently, it is a super time sensitive event to retrieve usable tissue and organs. Without time to think, I was signing paperwork to have his body parts removed from his mortal husk. At the same time my mind was reeling with emotion and disbelief. I kept thinking, "Wait! Are we sure he is really dead, before we start ripping him apart?" Everyone around me was treating this like medical routine, while my whole world was being ripped to pieces -- including Charles' beautiful body. I could not believe it, any of it. It felt like a nightmare.

During the worst night of my life, I got a phone call at around 4am to discuss tissue donation. I had to control my weeping and wailing, to answer a phone questionnaire about all of Charles' medical history. I was shaking the whole time. I was holding back the desire to burst into pieces. I calmly answered the questions, and let them know they could have it all... anything they could use, I wanted them to use it. After I hung up, I threw the phone on the floor. I was so frustrated that this was my life.

On March 31, I was hugging Charles' beautiful body. On April 1, I was offering it up as a life saving donation.

This was not part of my life plan.

Just yesterday, I received a letter in the mail letting me know how his donation has helped save others. I was shocked when I saw the number: 85. His death has helped 85 people live a better life. My heart was conflicted with the news, because to me he is everything, but I am grateful his death could be an instrument in helping so many. It makes him happy, I am sure. He has not ceased to serve the living, even in death.

This kind of news is always so bittersweet for me. It makes his death so physical, and tangible all over again. I prefer not to think of his physical body much now, and I try and focus on his living spirit. These kind of reminders are hard.

However, the children saw the letter, and it made them really excited. They were so happy he could help so many people. They knew he had donated his organs and tissues, but they were surprised at the number of people he was able to help.

I wonder if those 85 people know that they are walking around with a piece of one of the finest men to ever walk the earth? I wonder if they feel grateful for the gift that was given? I guess I will never really know. But I do know Charles is grateful he could offer one final physical act of service with his body. He always loves to help others.

Charles, you are a superhero. Just look at you saving lives! You are amazing. I love you.

The Tigers Come at Night

Image from National Geographic 

Last night I had a dream. It was intense. I dreamt that I was wrestling a tiger. I saw the animal walking in the street, with its golden fur and black stripes. There was a crowd of people around, and I knew I needed to protect them, and save them. I quickly jumped in front of the crowd, and wrestled with the beast. It was a violent fight; I could feel the pain physically in real life as I laid in bed.

As I struggled to take out the tiger, there was nothing to grab onto. There was no way to pull it down -- it was too powerful. I was on its back, and the only thing I could grab was its mouth, to try and hold it shut. But I would not let go, because as I wrestled, I gave everyone else enough time to get away from it, and run to safety. I continued with the brawl, but I was losing my strength, and my will to keep fighting. I was not going to quit until I was dead.

And then, out of nowhere, there was a man who came to help me. He jumped on the tiger and allowed me a break for awhile from the struggle. I was lying wounded on the road, but I was able to breathe and rest, as he protected me from the ferocious animal. I watched this man as he fought the tiger with great strength and courage. I watched him and wondered who he was; who was this man who came to protect me? Who was this man who saved me from the tiger? I needed to know...

And then I woke-up.

As I laid in my bed in the middle of the night, my mind and body were spinning. I felt like I had actually been in the tiger fight; I felt beat-up and weary from the struggle. I tried to process what I had just beheld, because it was so real and so intense. I thought maybe I should get up, and write it down, because it was so profound. But then I decided there was no way I would forget the dream, and I didn't. It was the first thing I thought of when I woke-up to my alarm.

Before I could fall back asleep, my mind had to process what just happened. Some dreams mean nothing, and some dreams mean everything. This dream was important. As I was considering the dream, the lyrics to a song came to mind, and kept repeating themselves over and over...

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hopes apart
And they turn your dreams to shame

I felt very strongly that the "tiger" was trying to defeat me. I had been feeling ill, and weary, and vulnerable, and my mind was not as strong as it normally is. When you are weak and weary is a great time for fear and worry to sneak in. The tiger was symbolic of: fear, worry, grief, despair, pain, etc.

Those "tigers" have been whispering in my ears a lot lately, trying to tear my hopes apart. It has been hard. But I will not let them win. As sorrow and grief scrape and claw at my soul, I will continue to scrape and claw back. I have dreams. I have beautiful dreams for the future. My heart is filled with hope in my waking hours, though my fears often become manifest at night. It is a struggle. It is a fight. Happiness is not felt without an opposing force. And I have felt both, intensely.

Though I grow weary in the battle sometimes, I will never give up the fight for my dreams -- no, not ever. 

I will never stop fighting for joy. I will never stop hanging on to happiness. I will never stop clinging to courage.

There are some other song lyrics that apply to my fighting spirit...

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
Cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar... 

You're gonna hear me roar!

Oh, and the man who stepped in and saved me from the tiger? Who is he? 

That is something I would sure like to know...

Time to Ponder

I need to be able to think. I need to take purposeful time to sit quietly, and ponder life, and my place in it. I have been feeling rather sick lately, but that has also afforded me the quiet time to be still and rest, and consider some things that have been on my mind. My personality requires this time to reflect, consider the now, and even to dream of days to come.

Yesterday, I sat on the trampoline wrapped up in a blanket with William. He loves to sit with me and be close to me, while soaking in the sun. It was a little chilly, so a blanket was required, but it was still pleasant. I brought the iPad out with me, and I decided to listen to a message about coping with the loss of a loved one on the Mormon Channel.

To hear what I listened to click: HERE. I highly recommend it to everyone, whether you have lost someone or not -- because eventually, you will. It is insightful on what is helpful to say, and not to say, and how best to offer comfort and how best to respond. There are actually 2 parts to this, but I have not yet listened to Part 2 -- I'll do that today. Just turn it on while folding laundry, or better yet, sit back and relax for awhile, while doing nothing else, and listen. I loved that it talked about how all death is different. No scenario is the same, so emotions are not the same. Even I cannot say to someone who has lost a loved one that I really understand, because I do not. Every situation is different and unique. However, there is One who understands, and that is what makes Jesus so special.

I told William what I was going to listen to and he said, "We don't need to listen to that, because we are happy." This is the second time in the last few weeks that he has acknowledged this happiness despite death. I asked him if he ever feels sad about losing dad, and he said, "No, because he is always with us." I think one of Charles' gifts he left with us is the ability to feel joy -- especially the children. We are not just surviving, we are thriving. Sure we cry sometimes (mostly just me), but that is as it should be. I am sure they will want to discuss it more as they are older -- especially Henry, who will not remember his father -- but I plan to continue infusing happiness and joy into their little minds and hearts as much as I can. In my biased motherly opinion, death has just made my children even more wonderful. Watching these children of mine carry on with joy has been something else.

Speaking of happiness... I just started writing in my "Happy Thoughts" book. I decided I want to write down the things that make me happy each day. Yesterday it was this moment with William on the trampoline. It was special. There were other happy moments. It is the little moments that count. Moments like: eating dinner as a family, watching Studio C, listening to the scriptures in the car on the way to school, singing loudly while driving, watching Sammi skip happily to the car, having Daniel roll the garage cans out to the curb, watching William get excited about doing good on his homework, and giving Henry a shower and rubbing lotion on his body. It was nice to focus on the good stuff; it made me feel happy.

I did not write down when Henry took off his diaper, pooped on the floor, and smeared it into the carpet. Or when he brought dirt in from outside and dumped it on the kitchen table. Or when he learned how to drag a chair over to the front door to unlock the deadbolt. Or when he colored on the wall with a pen. Yep, Henry is feeling all better. He is almost 3, and he is good at it. I suppose in retrospect those may not be happy thoughts, but they will be silly memories. (Cleaning up smeared poop on the carpet is the worst! NASTY!) 

I have been told I need to take time to ponder. It is not a maybe, it is a must for me. I do not just see the world as it is in front of me -- I see it in philosophical layers that I have to work through in my mind. If I take the time to consider the cosmos, and my place in it, then I can be at peace and move forward with courage; always aimlessly rushing about does nothing for me, it just drives me crazy.

In the world now everything seems so quick, and so fleeting. That word has been stuck in my head lately -- fleeting. It used to be you might get 15 minutes of fame, but now you might get 15 seconds, or less. (It depends on how fast you scroll.) News that was printed once a day, is now being updated every second. I feel like nowadays people -- myself included -- are ever searching, but never coming to a knowledge of the truth. Searching, searching, searching... what are we searching for? We are searching for peace (or maybe some are searching for attention), but peace is not found in constantly searching or scrolling; it is found in living a purposeful life, the kind of life God wants you to live.

I know how fleeting life is. There is only one breath between being alive and being dead. I have seen that breath. It is shocking to realize how fragile life is, and how precious our breaths are. Life is fleeting, but it does not have to feel that way. We can slow things down, and find more peace, and be more purposeful about what we do with ourselves. That is something I am working on.

That is why I must take the time to ponder, and be still.

You should try it. It feels great.

Take a break from the scrolling, and go strolling outside instead. :)

Exhausted

Life can be exhausting sometimes. I'm not complaining, I'm just stating a fact. I have been feeling the sensation of exhaustion lately, and, well, it is not the best feeling in the world. I know it will pass, but not any faster than my body can rest and recover -- I cannot speed up the process. I just have to do what I can to allow energy to return to me, and that can take a bit of patience. 

My parents left a few days after Henry had his surgery, and my dad's parting words were, "Make sure you take care of yourself, and don't let yourself get exhausted." I had not slept well for about a week with all of the excitement and demands of Henry's hospital stay, and recovery at home. During that time I actually felt great. I was able to sustain my energy, and tend to Henry's needs without any trouble. I felt amazing. That energy continued on until just a few days ago. 

From Henry's surgery we went straight into Sammi's performance. It took a lot of effort and energy to get her ready for her special moment. We had to find all the pieces to her costumes, and make sure she had everything in order, and get her to all the after school practices -- all of last week was devoted to her concert preparation. It was exciting, and fun, but I was running on fumes at that point, just trying to keep up with all the normal activities of life: doctor's appointments, orthodontist appointments, grocery shopping, taking care of everyone (and myself), and running a household, etc. I used to have a companion to help with all the excitement, but now it's just me. (I really can't and shouldn't complain, the kids are super helpful.) 

The day after Sammi's performance, I was spent. When I went to church on Sunday I felt like I had zero energy. I had to teach Gospel Doctrine, and I was just glad I did not fall over in the middle of the lesson. Somehow I made it through. My mind was so fuzzy while I taught, I just hope I made some sort of sense. I felt like a Zombie in a skirt. 

When I got home Sunday after church, I was finished. A heavy feeling took over me, and sent me to my bed for some much needed beauty sleep. It was a feeling that was more than tired... I was exhausted. From the events of the last few weeks, I had reached my limit, and it was time to rest. My body would allow me to go no further. I plopped into bed, and stayed there most of the evening. 

Henry did the same... he looks how I felt.  

I am still feeling extremely tired. I have been taking every opportunity to rest. I have been following Henry's lead -- if he is resting, than so do I. I know if I do not rest, then sorrow and grief come rising to the surface to haunt me, and I do not want that. 

Sure it has been almost a full year, and everyone else has moved on from the experience, but not me. It feels just like yesterday that Charles died. The emotions are just as near the surface. It is not as bad as in the very beginning, but they come and go -- sometimes with a new level of severity. I know that getting enough rest is crucial to my well-being. I was told at the very beginning to make sure and get enough sleep. Henry has been kind to me, as he seems to feel exhausted lately as well... he has allowed me some much needed down-time. I did not realize how much energy I was expending, with all of the excitement lately. 

One of the symptoms of grief and experiencing tragedy is exhaustion. I hear so many widows and widowers describe this feeling of utter fatigue. It is because the emotional toll is so pressing that it becomes physical. After so many hours of carrying the weight of sorrow, the body starts to break under the pressure. It is a challenge not to succumb to the mental anguish that is caused by intense trials -- especially death of a loved one. Death of a spouse is a particularly difficult challenge as it alters your entire world. A life without love... well, it is not so fun. I think there is a reason Jesus talked so much about taking care of the widows. He understands their need, and their sorrows. 

I know this too shall pass. I won't be so tired forever. I have still been jogging -- though super slowly -- just so I can get out and breathe fresh air. I am trying to put my life back in order to get back to normal. My normal has been greatly thrown-off, and I feel the direct effects from it. You know, routine is not such a bad thing! 

One thing that has been missing from my schedule -- because of circumstances, and the need to tend to Henry -- has been my frequent temple trips. I want to take note that I have not gone to the temple in a few weeks, and I feel awful. Is there a connection? For me: YES!!! The temple has become a source of my power, and I feel like I had better get a recharge soon, before I run out of spiritual battery. The temple is not a luxury for me, it is a MUST. 

I am looking forward to General Conference, which is coming up in a few weeks. That will also help recharge my physical/spiritual batteries. I cannot wait. I will feast on every word. It will be the perfect timing, as the 1 year mark -- April 1st -- is coming up soon. Charles died on a day that will always be followed by General Conference a few days later; a tender mercy for me. 

If you are exhausted like I am, maybe it is time to regroup, and take time to put yourself back together. If you keep going full-steam ahead without tending to your needs, you will burnout! And that is not pretty. Sometimes we neglect ourselves -- especially mothers and fathers -- and we give everything to everyone else, and forget to breathe. If you do not take care of yourself -- even first -- you will run out of oxygen, and then what good are you? 

The oxygen mask goes on you first! Don't forget it. Just imagine you are the pilot of a plane, and you insist on waiting until all the passengers have their masks secured first, before securing your own; meanwhile, the plane takes a nose-dive, because you cannot breathe, or safely land the plane. The end result? Crash and burn. You are the pilot of your family. Secure your mask. 

Take care of yourself. You are needed. You are worth it. Take time to breathe. Take time to rest. 

This is my thought for the day... 

Mosiah 4:27

And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

I am going slow and steady, so feel free to pass me in the race of life; I'll wave at you as you go by, I'm in no hurry to die. (Even though it would be nice to see Charles.) 

I'm exhausted, I do not have strength right now -- so it is requisite that I slow down. 

If you need me, I'll be securing my oxygen mask. 

Starring Rapunzel!

Sammi is Rapunzel. She was properly cast in her junior high choir performance. Sammi is light, and joy, and strength. Every morning Sammi wakes up happy, and everyday she says is a great day. She came into the world with sunshine in her soul, and now she gets to share it with others. She has big dreams, and I just know she will make them come true. 

She has always wanted to be a Disney princess, but when Tangled came out, it was like seeing Sammi in cartoon form on the big screen. Even before the movie came out -- before Rapunzel was even a known Disney princess -- Sammi would wear this dress around the house... as if she were preparing for her future. 

Sammi had so much fun performing. There was all sorts of excitement around our house as we tried to prepare for her show. The excitement still lingers in the air, as the energy of performing often stays with you for awhile. It has been so fun. She has loved every minute of it. And I have enjoyed it too! It is nice to sit back and watch your children on the stage. It makes me super nervous, but Sammi put me at ease with her confidence and anticipation. It was just a joy to see her having such a good time, and fulfilling her little girl dream. She may be 13, but she will always be a little princess to me. 

Here are some pictures from the show... 

Rapunzel and Mother Gothel getting ready to go on... 

Sammi enjoying the spotlight... 

I've got a Dream! Sammi is living her dream! Yea! 

Flynn helping Rapunzel get her microphone on... 

Yeah, I had to watch this moment... Eek! She is in 8th grade, and he is in 9th... time to brush up on my karate. ;) 

Sammi got a standing ovation from the 30+ people there from church supporting her... she was so happy to see them! 

Flynn and Rapunzel... 

After the performance, a bunch of cute girls wanted their picture with Rapunzel. It was just like Disneyland! Sammi was in Heaven.

She stayed in character even after the show was over...

Dynamic Duo... I love that they both have braces. :)

A beautiful picture of Sammi captured by a friend...

Pictures with cute girls...

Thanks to everyone for their love and support. It meant the world to Sammi, and me!

Sammi had a dream, and it came true... now time to find another dream!

And, here it is... the performance.

I See the Light...

For mobile devices click: HERE



Mother Knows Best, and I've Got a Dream...

For mobile devices click: HERE