How does my garden grow?

I've been calling a small and shaded area of dirt my "garden" for the past four years. And because of my love of the landscaping and terracing in our backyard, I've just lived without a real garden.

But this year that all changed. All thanks to my father-in-law. The man is the most hard-working human i've ever known. And when he comes to visit he gets things done that Reid and I have put off doing for months (or sometimes years!) He calls us weeks in advance to get us thinking about what we want him to work on while he's here. And after a few meager attempts of "oh, Mike, i just want you to relax" i usually come up with a decent-sized list of to-do's. This trip the to-do was these garden boxes.


His trip out here in April was part of an entire Allred family gathering we hosted. It was so fun to have everyone here in our cozy little house. We fit. Barely, but we fit. My girls had a blast playing with their cousins, Reid and I had a blast visiting with family. And Mike--well, between games of "Princesses and the Bad Prince" and walking around with Gabe in his arms, he built five awesome raised-bed garden boxes. These boxes meant digging up and transplanting some rose bushes. They meant a slightly less beautiful backyard.

But you know what else they meant?

The world to me. Seriously. This was early April. My mom had only a few weeks left. I was in constant heart-ache and denial, watching life slip out of my mom, and there was nothing I could do about. And I needed a place where I could make things live. Where everything was in my control. Where "nature's course" wasn't my worst enemy.



That's exactly what this garden was for me. It gave me something to do and to focus on in the times i was back here in Denver, between trips to Provo. And you can ask Reid--it was all-consuming. I researched EVERYTHING you can imagine. I chose square-foot gardening, and planned and mapped each box out, with several rough drafts. I learned which plants thrive well next to which plants, and figured out when i could plant what, which ones to start from seed, which ones to buy. I mean, i was obsessing over this garden. It was a coping technique. And it worked well.

After the funeral and everything, I came home to copious amount of spinach in two of the beds. This made me happier than any other single thing could have. We ate spinach in and on everything. The girls thought it was the coolest thing ever, which only added to my state of bliss. (It still does, in fact. Watching them enjoy the garden has been a huge added bonus that I somehow hadn't anticipated.)

I've been dreaming of a real garden since i-don't-know-when. So, really i don't know how I didn't convince myself 4 years ago to make this change. But I'm glad I didn't. This garden has been my happy-place all summer. The newness of it is a big role in that. And, i kid you not, I sit on my deck and stare at it. Often. The way you do the ocean. And it amazes me, the same way the never-ending water does.

And although the #$%@ bunnies had their way with our beets and strawberries, they were kind enough to leave us our snap peas, lettuces, some kale, tomatoes, more tomatoes, zucchini, pumpkins, squash, carrots, peppers, basil and the satisfaction of watching tiny seeds turn into exactly what they claimed they would!!




And here's a photo i just found--it's the closest I've got to a "before" picture, with the rose bushes that we transplanted behind the girls. And you know what? After looking at the lush, beautiful garden above, i miss these roses even less.

We all love Kindergarten

Grace is loving Kindergarten. And Kindergarten is loving Grace. The two are getting along so swimmingly, in fact, that at times i start to feel a bit left out. I see other kids who still cry when their moms drop them off, and I sometimes wish that Grace would shed a tear or two for my sake. But, (fortunately, i suppose) she does not cry. She runs ahead of us (or leaps out of the van, depending on whether we're having a walking or driving day) and gets right in line with the other kids--without looking back. When we finally catch up to her, she still lets me give her a kiss (in front of all her friends!), and she still gives Abby and Eliza a hug. Then she goes inside the classroom, without looking back.

We come back home, and Eliza and Abby play together for 30-45 minutes (which i LOVE). Then Eliza naps and Abby and I have time to read, have piano lessons, or do puzzles and games (which i LOVE, since Grace isn't really into either and i'm a big puzzle/game fan), and then Abby heads down to the basement to play by herself (which i LOOOOVE). Abby had a hard time the first few days, but has adapted REALLY well. I think she actually enjoys being the "boss" sometimes...even if there is no one down there to boss around.

And I am left with a few minutes all to myself. It's really quite lovely, if I may confess. I've worked on some projects, done P90-X (minus the 90 part...let's call it p8-x for now), read a couple of books, occasionally do a bit of housework, and i sometimes even take a nap! The TV is not on. Neighborhood kids are not over. All in all, this little change has done good things for everyone involved.

Grace is learning to read at school -- and loving it. I'd considered taking it upon myself to teach her to read a few months ago, to "give her the edge" at school--but ultimately didn't feel right about it. And i'm SOOO glad I didn't. Not just because she and I don't really have a great teacher/student relationship, but because she is learning to learn!! She's enjoying her homework, she's mastering her "sight words" and feeling the satisfaction of progress and accomplishment.

But my favorite change? my favorite part of all of this? it's waiting out on my lawn for Grace to come home. She runs down the street, I scoop her up, and she gives me the world's biggest hug (the one you might expect from a child who does cry when her mom drops her off) and I carry her into our house. She runs to the bathroom to wash her hands (because she's a bit neurotic about hand washing...no idea why... :), comes and sits on my lap, and tells me whatever little bits of her day she wants to talk about.


In fact, she's coming home right now. I've been instructed today (by Miss Grace, herself) to meet her half way up the street, so I better go!

i cried today...

...as I finished sewing Grace's dress that my mom started months ago--the dress i'd worked on by my mom's bedside several nights, and the dress i've been putting off working on for fear that it would be too hard. It was. In every way. It didn't help that I still don't know how to work my mom's sewing machine, so I went to call her about 3 times, each time feeling like a new reminder that i can't. At least the dress turned out pretty cute.



I cried today as I hugged good-bye one of my dearest friends. Gillian and her family are moving too many states away. She and I have known each other since our oldest girls were about 15 months old. I used Grace as an excuse to invite myself over to her house 4 years ago, when truthfully i just thought she seemed pretty awesome and i wanted her to be my friend...and it worked! thanks, Gillian, for being the kind of friend I needed, and the kind of friend we ALL feel so lucky to have. You will be missed more than you know. I love you.


And I cried today as I hugged Grace outside of her Kindergarten classroom. She gave me a good, long hug. And then she turned and skipped into the classroom, holding hands with one of the girls she met at orientation the other day. She didn't even look back. I really, really wanted her to look back. Abby held on to my leg and said, right after Grace walked in the door, "mom, i really miss Gracie." She has no idea what she's in for. Eliza didn't really get what was going on until we started driving away, at which point she started screaming, pointing at Grace's empty carseat, "Gracie, Gracie"--and at this point my crying turned to sobbing. I tried to explain to her that Gracie would be back in just a few hours and that she was only gone for a little bit, but my words of comfort provided zero comfort--for either of us.

I don't love goodbyes, but they seem to be lovin' me.

10 Things keeping me from updating my blog

10. Going to the Red Sox vs Rockies game with some of our Boston buddies. (i had a hard time choosing which team to cheer for...so i cheered for both)

9. Teaching piano lessons to Grace and Abby--they both really love their daily lessons, especially Abby, and I love the memories it brings back of the days when I used to enjoy lessons from my mom (that only lasted for 5-6 years, until my social life moved up to position #1 on my little pre-teen priority list, and piano lessons became a total draaaagg)

8. Spending evenings with just Reid and Eliza while Abby and Grace were at Vacation Bible School last week. 5pm-9pm without Grace and Abby? Eliza was in heaven. Reid and I enjoyed the quiet sounds of summer nights. And the girls had the time of their lives.

7. Getting rid of the evil (and not at ALL cute) bunnies that ate my kale, swiss chard, beets, carrots and spring lettuces. Traps didn't work. Coyote urine didn't appeal. Fake Snakes creeped me out. Having the Boy Scouts remove 5 massive junipers (their home) didn't even do the trick. So, I left it in Reid's capable hands...and there hasn't been a bunny in my yard since Tuesday afternoon. (if you want to know how he got rid of them, you'll have to ask him...)

6. Park days, pool days, zoo days, stay-at-home-in-pajamas days

5. Checking everyone else's blogs and wondering how I am so lucky to have such awesome friends

4. Planning an all-sisters trip to Indiana later this summer. The four of us sisters haven't all been together since before i left for Chile as a missionary. I'm looking forward to this trip more than i can say.

3. The need to not only water my vegetable garden daily, but to also go out and check on the plants 3-4 times a day. I'm a little obsessed with it...to say the least. I can't believe i haven't dedicated an entire blog post to my new garden....i will....soon

2. Getting ready for Girl's Camp this week (our church's youth camp for all the 12-18 year old girls.) It's in two days. I have a garage full of camping gear, a kitchen full of camping food and a head full of things i'm sure i'm gonna forget. I'm not much of a camper. I love nature, but I don't necessarily love to sleep in it. Yet still, I'm actually surprisingly excited for this week.

1. The Number One thing that's kept me from blogging???? It's not really an event....it's not wanting to write about an upcoming event--my oldest child starting Kindergarten in EIGHT days!!!!!!!!!! I've heard about a hundred other moms say the very thing that keeps crossing my mind: "As soon as your kids get really helpful, and really fun to have around, they ship 'em off to kindergarten." What's up with this???? Why does it work this way? And is there any chance they'd take Eliza, and leave Grace for me? Grace is so helpful--legitimately helpful...as in I ask her to clean up something and she does it. I ask her to help her sisters and she does it. I ask her to get something for me and she does it. When did this start!?!??!?! She even comes up to me about once a day and asks what she can clean!!!

Not to mention that I enjoy just being with her more than ever. We talk all the time about all sorts of things, and I feel like I have a little friend in the house at all times. I don't mean to make it sound like we don't still have our battles...'cause we do. But I feel like I've completely exited the "i have no one to talk to during the day" stage of parenting, and I'm really loving it. And now, for 3 hours each afternoon, she's gonna be gone. I am going to miss her.

And multiply what I'm feeling times a thousand, and that's where Abby's gonna be. Those two are better playmates than ever (so much so that I feel bad for their slightly excluded lil' sister, but that's another post). Abby looks up to Grace so much. I don't have enough imagination or energy to fill Grace's shoes for three hours every afternoon!!! It'll be good for them to have some time apart, though. And Grace is more excited than i would have imagined possible. She's changed so much, and grown-up so much over the past year. Oh, i love having her around...almost enough to consider homeschooling her....almost. I've read many blogs about this very thing over the past few years and I've thought "that will NEVER be me writing about Grace!" And now it's here.

Buena Vista

Last weekend Reid and I took the girls to Buena Vista--a little mountain town about 2 hours SW of Denver. Actually, let me rephrase that. Reid's firm took us and the girls to Buena Vista. Originally kids were not invited. But when we had to cancel--since we couldn't find a babysitter--they decided to make it a kid-friendly activity--that's how much they LOVE Reid! (or how badly they needed employed attorneys to "welcome" the summer interns)



It actually turned out to be a wonderful family get-a-way. Since we had the girls with us we had a lot of "unscheduled" time --which was great. And, since the activities of the night before had all of us up hours past our bedtimes, we all slept in the first morning there. (I love my children's ability to do that, btw....i'm sure i'll be cursing it someday...but not yet). So, after a lazy morning in our fancy cabin, we lunched at some local burger joint, and then decided to brave the moderately cold rain--we went swimming at the outdoor Hot Springs. It was awesome. I can now never imagine swimming there in nice weather. The contrast of the cold weather and the hot water was so fun. Eliza cried most of the time (she does that anyway) but the rest of us loved it.

After the hot springs we drove 10 miles or so through muddy roads to Iron City Cemetery and St Elmo--Colorado's famous ghost town.


This town is quaint, kind of cute, but most definitely worth it if you (or your little ones) enjoy tiny rodents eating out of your hands. These lil' chipmunks are actually really cute, and feeding them was not only a highlight for the girls...but maybe for me, too. Maybe.

Abby was the first one to feed them. Grace joined in soon after. And even I was able to push aside the tiny voice in my head telling me that these creatures could bite my hands off. But Eliza never did quite get up the nerve to actually open her hands--she held the seeds, but couldn't quite release them. Bravery is, apparently, a recessive gene :)


When Abby bent over, one of the chipmunks climbed up on her back. She got the BIGGEST kick out of it, so she bent over again, and again. It was so cute, and so funny--and I didn't get a picture of it!! If only I'd have know then how much Abby would talk about that experience!!! She mentioned it about 15-20 times in the car on the way back to our cabin. Literally at least fifteen times she said "I can't believe one of the chipmunks climbed on my back!!" By the 14th time Grace (who had been really supportive of Abby's excitement) finally said, in a sweet voice, "Abby, you've said that lots of times. We know you can't believe it. You don't have to keep talking about it." Well, somebody had to say it--I'm glad Grace did.

We spent the evening with the peeps from Reid's firm at a Bar and Grill. Our reservation was for 8pm. We tried to get out of the whole things, but were somehow convinced into coming. Yes. We were THAT couple with kids out of bed and at a restaurant at 10pm!!! And for paybacks? Eliza decided to spurt the contents of her diaper in every which direction. (That poor highchair will never be the same.) At least it gave us an excuse to leave!

The next morning Eliza was actually quite listless and weak--she was hard to wake up, she'd cry for a few moments, and then just fall asleep wherever she was. For a while there we even debated getting her to a hospital. But, after eating a bit of yogurt she perked up enough for us to feel okay heading home. And she was fine ever since--thank heavens. I'm thinking she must have had a little stomach bug or something (which would explain the previous night's explosion?).

It was so fun to get away from here, off on our own, in a beautiful and remote part of Colorado I'd never seen. I think I really needed to have some time to focus on my family, and it was nice to be away from cell-phone service, internet connections, etc.

But being away from home didn't take away any of the pain of missing my mom. Maybe it was bound to happen that weekend anyway, but for whatever reason, my mom's permanent absence in my remaining mortal life felt more real than ever. And I had so many unexpected moments of sorrow--that really spilled over into this whole week. But it was healing, too, to be surrounded by gigantic mountains, endless cascading rivers, and green, lush countryside--all things that remind me how small the now is in the grand scheme of things.

I have much to say about my mom's funeral. But not tonight. Not right now.

I need to post these pictures right now, because they're sitting on my computer, preventing my silly mind from being able to blog about anything else...but i'll have to come back and visit this post some other night--to write about all the beautiful things that we experienced that day, the angels that carried us, and the outpouring of love my family felt.

I'm a bit too drained right now to say anything more. For some reason, it's been a really hard few days. I guess that's how this will go for a while.

Thoughts

It's been three weeks since my mom died. It feels like that day was sometime last fall. It seems impossible that everything that's happened--everything I've felt, witnessed, experienced, learned and cried over--could have possibly taken place in just 21 short days.

I feel like nothing i write could ever do justice to the extent of sorrow, the ups and downs of emotions, the outpouring of love, and the abundance of peace we've all felt over the past weeks and months. But, as I've been going through my mom's poetry, short stories, journals and little notes she's written over the past 45+ years, I'm learning that ANYTHING that's written down has more value than you might imagine. And so, although i have neither the time nor the energy to organize my thoughts right now, i'm going to write them down. Three weeks is too long to have put this off. And i doubt i'll even post about the funeral tonight--which was beautiful--or any of the other MANY things i need to write about. Tonight is just for spilling out some thoughts...

One thing i've been extremely aware of lately is that I haven't been nearly as sympathetic as i could have and should have been in the past when those around me have suffered similar losses. I've even found myself briefly resentful toward my peers who are sad to see their grandparents die--only because mine were all gone by age 11--and how could they possibly be sad when they got to have grandparents into adulthood?? I've found myself silently cynical towards people in their 50's and 60's who talk about the sorrow of losing a parent-- how dare they feel sorrow when they got to have their mom or dad around for their kids' weddings?!?!? These usually dormant feelings of resentment and anger have made a strong debut in my emotions these past weeks. And, as i guess could be expected, I've spent quite a bit of time in the "angry" stage. But I feel that this stage is passing. For whatever reason, it's taken me a while to recognize that no matter what the circumstances--losing a parent is always going to be hard. And everyone suffers from the same sorrows (albeit in different ways). There is no "comparing" sorrow--and this is a lesson i've needed to learn. And, along these same lines, I'm learning that being mad at the people around me who still have what i no longer do, will only hurt my heart--not heal it. I'm ashamed that this is even something i've had to learn.

In contrast to the anger i've felt, there has been an equally strong feeling of love, peace, gratitude and acceptance in my heart. And lately(unless I'm alone) these are the feelings that tend to make their way to the surface most often. These positive feelings that come with this experience could quite easily be ignored or rejected. There are many times, in fact, when i choose not to accept them--sometimes it feels easier to ignore them. I'm reminded often of something my sister said a couple of months ago--that "feeling peace is a choice." And I'm glad to have that reminder--it makes me feel like i have some control in an otherwise out-of-my-control situation--and I need that.

I've been aware of something else that happens when a person dies--and i'm sure many of you have experienced this. I wish that it could happen before we die--because it would truly make the world a better place. For some reason it seems that the moment a person dies, all of their weaknesses, any of the things about them that used to drive you crazy--just disappear. And i truly mean disappear--as in--I can't even remember an instance in which my mom did anything to drive me crazy. I mean, i know that such instances existed, because i can remember hanging up the phone and complaining to Reid about this or that, or yelling something like "mom, you drive me crazy!" But i can't remember what it was that drove me crazy.

And all of my mom's strengths--all the wonderful things she was, and taught me and did for me--they're all magnified ten-fold now. Not just magnified, but maybe even exaggerated. For example, i know that i dreaded piano lessons from my mom. i know i did. But right now as i recall sitting down with her for those lessons, in my mind's eye there are butterflies floating around in the strawberry-scented air. Her hair has golden ribbons and white flowers in it, and we're giggling like little girls at a misplayed chord. . . . Okay, that's a slight exaggeration, but the fact remains that everything she wanted or needed to change about herself no longer exists to me. And everything she was great at, or even sort of great at, is now the strongest part of my memory of her. Why must a person die for this to happen? I don't know. Maybe it's because we humans have a seemingly unchangeable need to embrace the faults of those around us. Or maybe it's a coping mechanism. Or maybe God allows us in these difficult moments to start seeing what He's been seeing all along, as a part of His abundant and everflowing grace. Whatever it is--I like it. I like that nothing but sweet and happy memories fill the part of my mind that my mom will forever occupy.

I miss my mom. I miss her more each day, actually, which is surprising to me. But I'm okay, too. It sucks that my mom died. It really does. And everyone i talk to who's been through this usually takes those exact words out of my mouth. But there is so much living to do, too.

My sweet girls have been such a happy place for my siblings, my dad and for me. What would we all do without them?!?! At least 3-5 times a day Grace or Abby come up and give me a hug and say, "Mom, i'm still sad about Grandma" or, "Mom, i really miss Grandma." It is so nice to have people around me to mourn with. And although i don't know that Abby gets what she's saying (she does just about everything Grace does), her hugs, along with Grace's, help more than they will ever know.

I didn't know, 23 days ago when my sister called to tell me that my mom only had 1-2 days left, if I should hop in the car and try to get there in time to say goodbye, knowing that my mom was mostly comatose, or if I should wait here until arrangements for the funeral were final. Grace's preschool graduation was five days away, and for whatever reason it absolutely tore me up inside to think about taking her away from it. It seems silly now, it really does. But it was so important to me in the moment. And i didn't know if i needed to be there for the moment my mom actually passed. I'd spent so much time with her, and had so much closure--did i really need to drive back in a mad rush to be by her bedside for her last breaths?

The answer was yes. I don't know how to describe what happened inside of me, but about 4 minutes after getting that call i felt inexplicably compelled to throw my family and all our belongings (okay, it wasn't all, but it kinda looked like it) into our van and get to my mom's side. Reid was the voice of reason and thought it would be best if one of us (him) get a good nights' rest before making that trek. I slept one hour that night. Reid woke us up early and drove most of the way there!! My heart and eyelids were both too heavy to operate a vehicle--what would i have done without him?!?!

The drive only took 7 hours--a record. But it was the longest drive of my life. The thought of getting there too late started to hurt so much. What was i afraid of missing? What more did I need to say or experience? Why did i need this so much? Why did I plow over my welcoming crew the moment we pulled up to my parents' house in a mad rush my mom's bedside?

The nurse said she was in a coma. And maybe she was. But when I held her hand and said "mom, it's me, Emily. I love you so much" I knew that she was hearing me. She knew I was there. Still with her hand in mine i said, "Mom, if you can hear me and know i'm here squeeze my hand." One second passed. Two seconds passed. Three seconds passed. And somehow she mustered up the mental and physical energy to give my hand an unmistakable squeeze.

That was what i'd needed. That was what had so strongly compelled me drop everything and rush home to her. I needed my mom. I needed to have one last interaction with her. In a most selfish way, i needed her to expend all that she had left, to give me this final moment of being together. And in her typical selfless fashion, she took care of me when I needed her.

The next 14 hours until she passed were filled with moments too personal and too sacred to share on this blog. But I will say this--that just as when when a life is brought into this world, when a life is taken from this world, there are angels attending, there is an abundance of love to be felt, and there is no denying the Greater Plan of which we are all a small part.