I've had the following post written for a couple of weeks now. I hadn't quite pushed publish yet. And then yesterday, my cousin passed away unexpectedly. He was 17 and had a mission call to Vancouver, British Columbia, and was going to leave soon after Christmas. I was talking to my sister on the phone today about how it has hit me a lot harder than I expected. But upon reflection, it shouldn't surprise me. My actual cousin, Clay, and his wife Amy moved to Cache Valley when we lived in Hyrum and I was in high school. Devaney, their oldest daughter, looked up to me in the sweetest way that only little girls with starry eyes can, and I felt like the greatest big sister that I had never gotten to be. I loved her and their family so much. Fast-forward and they moved to Taylor (right by Ogden) the entire time I was living in Ogden going to school and being a young newly-wed. So about seven years. Throughout that time they were at all the family functions--baptisms, baby blessings, Halloween parties, July 4th parades, game nights and caroling, you name it. Devaney taught piano and so did I, so we combined our students for a recital one year. She babysat Ruthie for me when Ruth had hand-foot-and-mouth and no one else wanted to watch her :). Her brothers teased Ruth and held Will. Logan and Hyrum fell right into the role of being more of my nephews and little brothers and I loved how wholesome they were. I always asked Amy to teach me her ways so I could have boys just like her. I remember going on a walk with her and my sister Andrea when Amy was quite pregnant with her last baby, and she said she had them mop. Whenever they talked back or were rude, they had to mop the entire kitchen. Amy was also a huge role model to me. I thought of her almost every single day this past pregnancy with Russ when I pulled on my ugly compression socks--because she was the first mom I had ever seen wear them, and it stuck in my brain.
The road Hyrum was killed on keeps flashing through my brain over and over again. I moved before my junior year of high school and a few times came back to Ogden for some parties. When I did, I would stay over at my sister Megan's house in Morgan. After one such party was my very first speeding ticket on that road. The summer after my junior year, I worked three jobs. My sister Megan got me one of them so that I could put in hours as a dental assistant and be a better applicant for the hygiene program. It was at an office in Morgan. I drove between my job in Morgan, my waitressing job in Sardine Canyon, and my preschool job in Hyrum all summer long. I went through Weber Canyon endlessly. In college, I loved driving through that canyon. It meant I was heading to my sisters and there would be food, and happy kids, and a fun break. I babysat for her all the time and often drove her kids around to activities. Sterling and I held hands for the first time while babysitting her kids. We had our first kiss on her driveway. After graduating and as a young married couple, I taught her kids piano lessons and drove that canyon every single Friday morning. One snowy morning a semi turned over and I was stuck in that canyon for three hours and pregnant and nauseous and having to pee. I drove that canyon when I got a hygiene sub job for eight weeks right before we moved to Miami and worked at the same office I had assisted at before school.
The office I worked at as an assistant and later as a hygienist was for a dentist that is my sister Megan's best friends. I saw his wife come in and out of the office frequently. And when I picked my sisters girls up from dance or other activities, I often picked up their kids too because they were the family that my sister traded pick-ups with. Those girls have been in my car and sung at the top of their lungs to my radio. I knew them. They were familiar to me.
The entire scene is just so real to me. I can play that drive over and over and over in my head. I can see the family he was driving to meet up with. I know his family. I love his family. I grew up with his family.
I've never had a close family member die. And I keep telling myself that I wasn't that close to Hyrum. But I was. In all the senses that I just wrote about. He was woven into the fabric of my lives as closely as my own nephews. His mom taught me with her own daughters. His arms held my babies. And that is the true fabric of our lives. The people we love. The people who show up for us again and again and again. The people who love us.
Now, it is crazy to me that this post has been sitting here, unfinished. Because this is what I wrote a couple of weeks ago when my aunt passed away:
I was talking to my friend Meagan just the other day on the phone about how crazy it is that we feel so young, and yet so many of our friends/family members that are just our age are already missing parents. Their kids are going to grow up their entire lives without grandparents. It is such a hard idea for me because even though my grandparents were old, and I was one of the youngest of the entire family, I still remember them.
Yesterday my Aunt Darlene passed away. She's had cancer for a couple of years and took a quick turn for the worse. My cousin Colter (who I refer to as my nicest cousin...I had about seven cousins my age...all boys, which made things not always the most fun) is in school in Oregon (my entire family is from Canada) and so he raced home to see his mom in Canada. And barely got there in time. Every time I think about that I tear up.
In high school I moved for my junior year and made really good friends with a group of kids--there were six of us. Three girls, three boys. Now, there were more, but primarily these guys are the ones I remember the most from that one year and who I saw the most afterward. You could basically say we were triple dating the entire time, but very carefully--because these were good kids. Alan--who I dated, had his dad pass away suddenly this year. It came as a real shock to me, because I really loved that man. He was an instant father figure in my life, while Alan's mom was funny and chatty, Alan's dad was quiet and kind. So kind. He always had something nice to say and a slow grin that was so endearing. I spent two years of my life being at that house and loving him. I can only imagine what his family feels as I felt like the world lost a truly great man. Someone who welcomed me into his home and his heart. In that group of six was also my friend Brycen. His mom and dad were always trying to convince me to marry into the group. Someone from Mendon. To keep me around and visiting. They are the sweetest. At Brycen's wedding reception they were so nice to tell me they were sad I married someone not from Mendon, but so happy for me because they knew I would only marry the best of the best. (and I did, of course.) I even borrowed climbing gear from them for a Zion's trip when I was in college and Brycen was on his mission. They were so thoughtful. This past year she was diagnosed with stage four cancer, and only a few months to live. I just heard a few weeks ago that she had passed away. Again--I remember her welcoming smile. I remember saying prayers as a family at her house, and singing around their piano.
When I was in college I spent six weeks living with my old YW president from Ogden, because my lease was up and I didn't want to move for six weeks because we weren't getting married until February. I have so many wonderful memories of this YW president. Foremost--when her towel caught on fire at Girl's Camp and she came shrieking out of her tent with her perfect hair and neatly done nails. HA! They were amazing--they took me in just like a daughter, and she even stepped in and probably did way more chaperoning than she expected to (that month before you get married, right!?). Her husband conveniently 'brought us a shake' when we were watching movies downstairs, and we'd be embarassed because we'd been kissing. He also crafted his own banjoes with extra strings and he'd play for me randomly. He knew all the stories of the architecture of Ogden and his stories were so interesting. He was really great. He passed away of cancer just last year.
I am just ever reminded of the importance of family. Of relationships. Of humans. Of how important it is to teach our children to respect, learn from, grow from, and love their family--and their extended family. Life is a crazy, wild, and hard ride. Last night I was watching This Is Us (I didn't even like the first season, but Sterling's been gone a lot) and she was in the hospital with a brand new baby and telling her that the beginning of life is so incredibly beautiful, and at the end it is so incredibly precious, but the middle-that's where life can get so messy. We forget how fragile everything is.
These thoughts have also had me in tears approximately 3.4 billion times while nursing and looking at my beautiful little baby today. And no I'm not pregnant. Why do these precious little babies have to get big so fast?!?! I could seriously freeze him right now and keep him this way forever. So precious and soft and delicious and perfect. I want him to have his family forever. And I am so grateful that I know he will.
It's kind of wild that I wrote that, and then two weeks later, here I am again. Sterling is an incredible husband and has handled my constant tears very well. While I keep reliving this in my head, and I'm still in shock about the whole thing, I take great comfort in the gospel. Just hours after I heard about Hyrum, I gave a talk at a convert baptism on the Holy Ghost. It was a powerful reminder to me that the Lord has a plan and He does not ever leave us alone. My heart is heavy and broken for Devaney and Logan and Clay and Amy and their family. Yet somehow I can still find peace in the heartache. I know our Heavenly Father loves us. He has a plan. And all these wonderful people in my life who now have missing pieces, they know that. And that gives me great comfort as well.
