The Us in Our Marriage

Along with the stress and grief of losing two fathers this last month, Brett and I have been apart more than we have been together. It is really getting tiresome, this alone thing. Yes, I have Abbey to keep me going right now, and Brett has the funeral, his family, and our other kids, but there is nothing more peaceful, more centering than the "us" we have become. So as a result, I have been way off center these past weeks.

It isn't like we have never been apart. There have been quite a few times in our marriage when miles have separated us. For instance, when Brett joined the Air Force back in the 80s he was in training in Texas then in Mississippi. We were apart for probably ten weeks. Then there have been times when he had to help with Scout camp, Pioneer Trek, or I was a leader at Girls' Camp. Brett has never had a job that has taken him out of town much, but there have been those few trips here and there. But this separation has been different.

Yesterday when Abbey was getting ready for school I could hear her in her bathroom doing a somewhat toned-down happy dance. I said, "It looks like we have a happy girl here today." She said she was sort of happy. When I asked her what that meant she said, "Well, two of my grandpas have died and my mom and dad keep leaving . . . . . " I could tell that she was feeling a little guilty for feeling some joy sneak into our tragedy. I quickly told her that it was okay to feel happy, in fact it is very important for little girls to be happy. After I said that, her happy dance picked up the pace and exploded out like sunshine.

Well, my happy dance is half way around the world, and I kind of feel like having a large temper tantrum until he gets back. Brett is the person in our marriage who gives us permission to take a nap on a busy day. He is the one who will start the compliment-giving contests, or the thumb wars when we are waiting somewhere. Brett is the one who asks me what my happy and sad are for the day. He breathes hope and peace into my chaotic day so often I can't even begin to remember all the times of resuscitation. I love you Brett. I am counting the days until Sunday. I hope Doha International Airport is ready for a wild happy dance!

Grandpa Kearney

Brett's dad, who just turned 90 on January 5, is in his final days, if not hours, on this earth. What a life this man has lived. What a legacy he will be leaving behind. We sorrow with all of the Kearney family and wish it wasn't so, but last time we saw Dad Kearney (Kenneth J Kearney) he talked of his mother, the legendary Erma Lee Gordon Kearney Peck. He has been looking forward to seeing her again I'm sure. His father Michael Edward Kearney died when Dad Kearney was only two years old. As a young accountant he died after accidentally sticking himself with a lead pencil, leaving a widow and two sons. Antibiotics would have saved his life, but they didn't have the miraculous medicines of today. I'm sure Dad Kearney will be welcomed to heaven by his loving parents who have waited a long time to see their son again. He will also be welcomed by two of his children who have preceded him in death: Sommer and Danny.

The legacy that Dad Kearney leaves behind to continue on is a large one - twelve children who have looked to him as the family patriarch for a very long time. There will be a giant hole in our family with the passing of this man. As his daughter-in-law, who was very afraid of him long ago, I have seen a gruff man soften, or maybe I was the one who softened as I came to know him. Dad Kearney has been a devoted father who chauffeured children to school, dance lessons, nail appointments, and jobs. In fact he didn't stop driving until a few years ago. He has been a devoted husband. He is an adoptive father who accepted my Brett along with his sisters as his own. He has been a bishop, the family cook (his bread is legendary), an artist, a proud grandpa, and an energizer bunny these last ten years. We love you Grandpa Kearney, and we are grateful for all you have done to make our lives rich with your wisdom, love, and perspective.

*While I was downloading the pictures for this post, Kristy called and told us that Grandpa Kearney had just passed away peacefully with one last look at the loved ones in the room. Oh how I wish Brett could have been there. He loves his dad so much. This special dad is the one who took Brett, his two sisters, and mom to the Ogden Temple to be sealed as an eternal family. Oh how grateful we are for that blessing, especially now.

Grandsons

Okay, so I have to brag for this post. I hope you will indulge me just a little. It was so good to be with my grandsons for a few days right after Christmas. It was the reward I received for flying for 34 hours to get to Utah for my dad's funeral.

Thomas is the brightest three year old I've ever met - since his mom that is. The first day we were together, while Thomas was munching on his breakfast, I asked him what he wanted to do with me while he was in Utah. I thought he would tell me he wanted to play in the snow, read, go to the library (one of his favorite activities), or play cars. With a mouth full of Cheerios he simply said, "I want to have a conversation." So of course I obliged and we started talking about whatever was on his mind. I can't remember what it was, but I could tell that is truly what he wanted to do with me. A few days later he told someone else (maybe Ben or Mary?) that he wanted to have a "cold" conversation with them. So they proceeded to say cold words like brrrrr and snow, and freeeeeeezing, and frost. What a funny guy! We did get to play in the snow eventually, thanks to the Smiths who invited us all to their first annual Snowman Building Contest on New Year's Day. One morning when everyone in the house was fast asleep, Thomas paid me the ultimate compliment of yelling, "Grandma! Grandma! Grandma!" when he woke up instead of calling for his mom. It was one of the nicest wake-up calls I've ever gotten. If you get a chance to be around Thomas, make sure you ask him to tell you a joke. It is a great experience.

Then there is Kimball (Kimballicious). He is a baby full of joy and patience like no other baby I've met, at least not since his Uncle Ben. Feeding him breakfast was even fun. His big brown eyes are something new in our family - Jared brought in the beautiful brown eyes - and when Kimball looks at me, it seems like he is looking into my heart. He is just a baby, but there is a wisdom there that suggests an old soul. He is also a relaxed little guy and let me cuddle him and move his arms and legs all over the place. We had fun playing peek-a-boo and eating together. Kimball LOVES to eat and it shows in his delicious chub. He is already talking and says "Santa" really well, and when he saw Thomas riding with Mary's dad on the four-wheeler, Kimball was watching very closely and said, "WEEEEEEEEEE!"



Grandsons are so much fun. This summer I get to watch them for a week while Kristy and Jared go to Hawaii. I am already counting the days!

Thanks, Robert Frost

I am up in the middle of the night because my inner clock is all messed up from traveling half way around the world this week. So since I can't sleep, I thought I would blog. I have had a lot of time to think these past two weeks - traveling to Bountiful by myself for my dad's funeral. There have been many thoughts on overload. A certain poem keeps coming to my mind, maybe because of my dad's passing, or maybe just because I have been thinking of the frailty of life and the power of forgiveness. Please read "Thanks, Robert Frost" Every time I read it something inside breathes a sigh of relief. Someday I might have someone read it at my funeral, that is how much it means to me. After you have read it, I would like to hear what you think of it - its meaning, its significance to you. Maybe you will hate it. I want to hear that too. I just think this poem brings up some topics that are almost too difficult to put into language. What do you think?