Bridget At Six

Our little Bridget is growing up, and growing up quick.  For some reason, in my mind, Bridget never gets older, so to think that she is now six, it just completely blows me away!  I really feel like Bridget is the glue that holds our family together.  She has mellowed out from her emotional one, two, three and four year old self and is usually our happiest, most cooperative, and most helpful child! Occasionally we see sightings of the "old" Bridget where she kicks and cries, but it is so few and far between, for which we are very thankful.  :)  So besides all of that, here are a slew of things about Bridget at age six.

Bridget is a fantastic sister.  She plays so well with Marshall, and then can seamlessly transition to playing with Rachel.  Rachel and I are both going to miss Bridget so much when she starts full day school in the fall!  Bridget is also so great with Gretchen.  She has the longest attention span with Gretchen out of all the kids.  She can easily spend 10-15 minutes playing with her and making her laugh.  

Bridget still loves art.  She can frequently be found drawing, writing notes, and making all sorts of creations.  I have a spiral notebook that I keep in the kitchen that I write our daily jobs in.  Well,  Bridget has filled that book with her drawings.  

Bridget's reading has really taken off, and I love it.  By the end of last school year she knew all the letters and their sounds so she could sound out words really well, but she had a hard time putting all the sounds together to figure out the word.  Just since January this skill has gone through the roof.  I love reading with her because she can easily figure out so many words now.  This has also drastically improved her spelling.  It is just so exciting to see this progress.  Lately she has loved reading in bed at night, just like Marshall does, and she asked for a flashlight for her birthday so she can read in bed with the bedroom light off.

Bridget is still the pickiest eater and it drives me and Richard crazy!  However, she can pound seven or eight McDonald's chicken nuggets (gag!) in under five minutes.  It is crazy.  This school year I make her eat two breakfasts, because I am terrified she is going to pass out one day at school.  She can have one bowl of cereal (and for Bridget this means sugar cereal with no milk, very filling) and then she can choose from toast, bagel, muffin, egg, or oatmeal.  She will only eat a soft boiled egg, and only eats the yolk, so even that is only somewhat beneficial to her.  This girl!  Months ago we made a food chart for her that earned her a date with Richard when she filled up the entire chart.  She got to put a sticker on when she tried a new food.  I am pretty sure we made this chart before Gretchen was born and she just barely filled it up!  Our hope was that she would discover some new foods she likes and incorporate those into her life on a regular basis.  Not so.  She has suffered through each new food, only taking a bite or two, and I am pretty sure she has not eaten any of these foods a second time!  Its not like we are asking her to eat squid!  Try a raspberry, or a baked potato, or an incredibly tender pork chop!  Geez!  Maybe one day this girl will subsist off of more than ten foods.  

Speaking of picky, but also healthy, she continues to only drink water, no other beverages for this girl.  Her teeth are pristine.  

Bridget has lost two baby teeth, the center teeth on the bottom.  She almost passed out after she lost her first one, but thankfully the second tooth was much less traumatic!

Bridget has a great imagination.  She can play by herself or with Marshall and Rachel and she just has a complete dialogue going on.  It is just so fun to observe. 

Bridget still counts Max Hassell as her best friend.  In the fall, several weeks into school, she showed me some schoolwork she had brought home.  On one paper she had drawn pictures of some kids in her class and she was telling me their names.  She pointed to one boy and told me that was Max.  She went on to say that she pretends he is still in class with her even though he is not.  She was elated to see him three times in December and they picked up right where they left off.  I love their friendship. 

For years Bridget preferred me over Richard.  This was heartbreaking for Richard and taxing for me!  In the last year or so though, Bridget has developed an equal love for both of us, and at times even prefers Richard.  She was over the moon when he took her to her first BYU football game this fall.  Bridget loves her time with her dad.  

Bridget has become great little friends to our two neighbors, a little girl who is one and another little girl who is three.  I think her happy and content nature makes it easy for her to play with kids of any age, which is why she does so well with Gretchen.  She just plays and brings these kids along with whatever game she has made up.  She is such a great helper to me and I don't think I could survive having four children without Bridget!

Grief

We arrived in Utah eight months and nine days ago.  This has been the hardest thing I have ever done.  Moving, putting the kids in a new school, losing my grandpa, adding another human being into this family.  

Just the other day a Facebook memory from last year popped up...the day I announced on social media that we were having another baby.  I stared at that post for minutes.  First, I just looked at the ultrasound picture of Gretchen, I was only 12 weeks along.  I have mentioned before, but I was riddled with worry for the majority of that pregnancy...and I have no idea why, but I was.  I looked at that ultrasound picture in complete awe.  Every perfect pregnancy is nothing short of a miracle.  But after I looked at the ultrasound picture, I just thought back to my life last February.  In my post I noted that we were going to make 2016 our most exciting and crazy year yet.  It was definitely exciting and crazy, but it was also heart-wrenching, exhilarating, stressful, happy, worrisome, special, gut-wrenching and pretty much every other emotion.  Part of me thinks that if I knew last February what was headed my way I probably would have opted to crawl under a rock and disappear.  

In our first couple of weeks here, we were at my parents for Sunday dinner.  After dinner Rachel asked me to push her on the swing so she and I went outside and my mom followed shortly after.  She put her arm around me and asked me how I was doing.  There I was, probably 32 weeks pregnant, in the heat of a July afternoon, and I just started sobbing.  I told her this was the hardest thing I had ever done.  Little did I know I was at the tip of the iceberg.  

There has been SO much good about being here, surrounded by family.  I love that our families have had so much time with Gretchen as a baby.  I love that my kids get to see their grandparents, cousin, aunts, and uncles on a regular basis.  I love that all these people love my kids; that means the world to me.  I love that we have been able to celebrate every holiday and birthday with family.  

But gosh darn it, so much has been hard.  Navigating this new life, and I really feel like that is what it is, has beat me down on more than one occasion.  The things is, we have a pretty good thing going on here.  We have a good routine going, the kids enjoy playing together for the most part, we have fun as a family, but as soon as something happens that momentarily kicks us out of our groove, I literally feel like someone threw a bucket of ice water on me.  It takes my breath away, twists my heart, and reminds me we are still new here and things are so very different.  

Last week I was listening to a podcast about a woman whose husband died last year, leaving her a very young widow with five small children.  His death was expected, but obviously that didn't make it any less painful.  She talked about how she pulled herself together most days and she and her kids found their new normal.  But sometimes things, big or small, would trigger her grief and she would just break down.  She related one time she was shopping in Target, something reminded her of her husband and she just crumbled in the isle and sobbed.  Now, I certainly have not lost a husband, and so my grief is different, but in listening to her describe her grief and how she could contain it and at times she couldn't, I realized in that moment, that I am working through grief.  I don't know why I hadn't made that connection before.  Wisconsin was my life for nine years, and especially as the kids got older and we did more .  And now it is gone.  We have the memories, but that life we built there is nothing but a memory, and now here we are, in our new life.  Sometimes I can compartmentalize and I carry us on and life seems normal, but then something happens, my grief is triggered, and I find myself so, so sad.

Last week Bridget had a friend over to play after school.  We know this little girl fairly well, she also goes to church with us and she has been over multiple times.  The girls usually get along quite well, but this day was a bit trickier.  Bridget and her friend could not agree on the same activity and I tried to help and suggest, but they just could not agree.  I talked to Bridget about being a good host and friend, but I wasn't really making any headway.  After a lot of back and forth and some progress, I left the girls alone for a bit and when I came back to check on them I found the friend playing, and Bridget was sitting on the couch, holding a picture of Max and just starting at it.  Gut-wrenching.

That same night I got another slap in the face.  I went on a visit with the primary president.  We walked in the house and immediately this other woman and the primary president began to talk.  I felt so out of place.  Here I was with two women, who knew each other very well, in a house I had never been in and I felt so odd.  I longed for the comfort of a friend's home the entire time we were there.  I came home that night and just cried to Richard.  I miss friends, and I miss the comfort of their homes.  

Finally identifying this whole process as grief was actually very comforting to me.  People work through grief, life goes on, and it will get better.   

Rachel Louise At Three And A Half

Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.  She drives us crazy and cracks us up 100 times a day.

Rachel continues to be our most affectionate child.  I love morning snuggles with her in my bed, and while that rarely happens, I soak up those moments.  She just snuggles right into me and usually wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheeks.  It is just the greatest.  She tells me I love you and thank you and you're welcome all day long.  As of late, when Richard gets home she runs to him, gives him a hug, and says, "I missed you!"  

Rachel's favorite playmate is Bridget and is always so happy when she comes home from school.  Rachel also adores Gretchen, sometimes too much for Gretchen's liking.  :)

When we got rid of Rachel's binkies last year, she took an extra liking to the tags on her blankets.  Now she has always loved tags, so this is not a completely new development, but those blanket tags have become her soothing mechanism and it just cracks me up.  She holds one of the tags on her blanket to fall asleep and she carries it around by that same tag.  I don't think the tag will last much longer!  I have seen her close to sleep, laying down with her eyes closed, threading her blanket through her hands until she finds the tag.  Love it!

Still not potty-trained...but probably not entirely her fault.  Sigh.  I made zero potty-training attempts until January, because you know, moving, new baby...who has the time?!  Anyway, I picked a Monday in January, she knew about it, and I decided we were going to hit it head on.  Well, that Monday morning came and she was completely defiant...outright refused to wear underwear.  I honestly was shocked because while potty training Marshall and Bridget was no breeze, they at least agreed to wear underwear!  After some back and forth with no progress I just decided to drop it.  We have since bought a potty seat which she is quite attached to, and has sat on a few times, but nothing yet.  Just this week I picked a new day, March 9th, and we'll give this one a solid attempt.  She is three and a half, by golly, we have to get this done!

Rachel is quirky, quirky, quirky!  This is how she talks, "Is that hims ball?"  "Are thems gone?"  "Hers not Gretchen, hers is sister."  It drives Richard absolutely bonkers, but I love it, and while I don't want this terrible grammar to continue for long, I am basking in it now.

The passing of my Grandpa Yancey has had quite a profound impact on her.  She talks to my mom about it and asks if she is sad that her dad is dead.  She recently found out that both of Grandma Becky's parents have passed away and on our most recent visit to Vernal I overhead Rachel to talking to Becky about it.  I actually found it quite touching and sweet.  At one point I heard Rachel say, "But thems in heaven with Grandpa Yancey."  Tender.  

Rachel's prayers are hilarious.  First of all, she refuses to say "Dear Heavenly Father".  When I talk about how we pray to Heavenly Father, she gets upset and is adamant we are praying to Jesus.  She always says, "Thank you that Grandpa Yancey died.  Thank you that Max had a sleepover on Christmas Eve.  Thank you that Emery is coming tomorrow."  None of this is true!  She has also recently added in "Thank you that Grandma Becky's mom and dad died."  Her prayers are always so thoughtful.  She talks in a sweet voice with her head bowed and arms folded tightly.  Her sincerity and sweetness makes these confused prayers even better.

Rachel frequently chooses to wear mismatched shoes.  One sandal, one dress shoe, or any other combination.  She also usually has her shoes on the wrong feet and will not let anybody change them.  You have no idea how many times strangers have told me her shoes are on the wrong feet.  Thanks for the tip!

Besides her shoe quirk, she is so particular with her clothes.  She only wears leggings, who can blame her there, but she pretty much just wears the same five shirts.  Even shirts I have her pick out, she will wear once, and if she doesn't like it, will never wear it again.  She has multiple dresses in her closet that Bridget used to wear that she refuses to wear.  Bridget has even passed down to her Disney princesses shirts and she will have nothing to do with them!  I will admit, this is all slightly frustrating to me because she only wears half her clothes and the half she wears are looking incredibly worn!

Rachel has taken to saying, "I was a baby last year."  And she'll say it at the end of anything.  And in fact, just today at lunch she told me she was a baby last night.  So clearly she doesn't know what a baby is or she doesn't get the concept of last night and last year.  :)

Rachel's imagination is incredible!  I have captured some great videos of her as of late completely absorbed in her own world with delightful conversations going on between her princess figures as she plays with them.  Her current favorite toys are her Sofia the First figures, Elena of Avalor, Tsums Tsums, Palace Pets, and My Little Ponies.  That basically sums up all of our girl toys.  :)

Rachel is currently in the midst of identifying her emotions.  She will frequently say,, "You make me so angry!"  and then stomp to her room, fists clenched, and slam the door, twice.  :)  She will also say, "You don't tell me!"  or "Stop talking Mom!" when we are asking her to do something.  Despite these angry words, she has also been known to melt our hearts with words.  Two weeks ago she said to Richard, "You take this upstairs for me.  You are such an amazing dad!"  Where does she learn this stuff?!  Richard was dumbfounded.

One day this fall, soon after Gretchen was born, I made some banana muffins.  Seeing as Gretchen was still so new, this small task seemed daunting, so it was really the only thing I wanted to accomplish that day.  I made them in the morning and then a while later laid down to take a nap.  Just as I was falling asleep Rachel came to tell me she was hungry so I told her to grab a muffin.  Well, when I woke up 30 minutes later I went into the kitchen and immediately saw all the muffins were not where I had left them.  I asked Rachel where the muffins were and she pointed to the speaker.  She had eaten the tops off of all 12 muffins!  Just a few weeks ago I made cornbread for dinner.  After dinner Richard and I went upstairs to start the bedtime routine and when I came back down I found Rachel eating the top of the remaining cornbread!  This girl cannot be trusted around grains.  :)

Rachel is clearly very resourceful when it comes to obtaining food for herself.  Every morning when I am upstairs taking care of Gretchen after the older kids have gone to school, I hear Rachel scooting a chair around the kitchen so she can get anything she wants.  When she has snuck a treat she always covers her eyes when she hears me coming down the stairs.  Always trying to be sneaky!

Rachel's smiles have become increasingly amusing.  She is such a little poser, and sometimes a very odd poser!  Her smiles are usually a wide open mouth and it is hilarious.  Every picture that Rachel is in brings a smile to my own face!

We love this one of a kind little girl, Rachel Louise!

Gretchen Ruth At Five Months

Gretchen Ruth.



She has all our hearts.

I've been saying since her first days with us that she was our easiest baby.  Well, I recently decided this is not true!  She definitely has her quirks and demands and we manage to meet every one without getting too ruffled ourselves.  I am sure that because she is our fourth we just roll with the punches easier than before...and I think she is also getting quite spoiled...by every single one of us.

She is my only baby who will not take a bottle.  She did take a bottle of pumped breastmilk for the first two months of her life, and did so on a fairly regular basis from multiple people.  But something changed and she has not looked back, so it is me or nothing!  She also went through a phase where she would not nurse without the boppy pillow!  We have kind of worked through that now, but she does not nurse great without it.  Because of this I have been hauling the boppy to children's museums, BYU, and to friend's houses.  I feel like a real capable mom doing that, let me tell you!  She can also be tricky to get to nap and get to sleep at the beginning of the night.  She just HATES being alone, so I think this is where the difficulty stems from.  She also doesn't take a binky, which up until this week I have not minded, and it will make life easier down the road.  However, this week she has woken up more than I would like during the night and I think if I could just pop a binky in her mouth she would fall back asleep.  Oh well!  This girl is particular!

Despite all of this though, she is sweet and happy and warms our souls on a daily basis!  Her big cheeks, fluffy hair, and instant grin melt my heart about 100 times a day.  She has a wonderful laugh and gives them freely, to all of us.  The kids are delighted when she laughs at something they do and it is so fun to watch.  Gretchen has rolled over once, back to tummy, on January 25th.  She smiled initially, and then cried, as she hates being on her stomach, and has yet to do it again!  When her socks and pants are off she loves to grab her feet.  She also loves to suck on things, so I have no idea why she won't take a bottle or a binky!  She can usually be found sucking her thumb, fingers, fist, forearm, and as of late, her shirt.  She has gotten great at grabbing toys, or any other thing the kids put within her reach, including their hair.  :)  Even though she has only rolled once, she has a strong little torso and can sit up for minutes at a time on my bed with just a pillow behind her,  One thing that Gretchen loves, and I love that she loves it, is she loves little kisses on her cheek and forehead.  I love to pull her close to me and just give her little kisses on her cheek.  After I pull away, she will lean her head back into mine, and smile when I kiss her again and again.  We repeat this multiple times and she just loves it!  Even my mom has noticed this about her.  Little Gretchen clearly loves a good nuzzle.





With each new baby I have, I treasure the still and quiet moments just a bit more.  Many a time Gretchen and I have conked out for a nap after nursing, and I just forget about everything I still need to get done.  I just enjoy her head resting on my shoulder and listening to her little baby breaths.  Gretchen delights me and gives me bright spots in my day that can sometimes be riddled with complaints and fights of older children.  I am so glad she's here.

Taking Some Advice

My house is quiet.  Richard is working late tonight.  My kids are all sleeping and my house is put back together.  I just sat down on the couch, opened my computer, and decided to look up a friend's blog.  This friend is one of the wisest women I know.  She only lived in Wisconsin for one year, but she became a good friend and I dream of living by her again one day.  In her most recent post, which was just a few days ago, she wrote about how her life feels flat, not up or down, just existing.  She went on to explain things she was thankful for.  She ended her post with these words...

"If, like me, your life feels just a bit flat, I dare you to write about the things that make you happy, and I'd guess it won't feel nearly as flat as it did before you started."

So even though it is 10:16 pm, and I really should get to bed, I am taking her up on her dare.  

I am so grateful for Gretchen.  Her pregnancy was riddled with intense worry.  I worried from the time I found out I was pregnant with her.  I was never given a reason to worry, but I carried that worry on my shoulders all the way through her delivery.  She has been such a bright spot in my life.  Her cheeks,  big eyes, fluffy hair, squishy thighs, and big smile warm my soul about 100 times a day. 

I am grateful for "normal" days.  We just lived through a week and a half of illness and it was down right miserable.  People had stomach flues, colds, croup, and eye infections.  We had two trips to urgent care for three kids and one visit to the pediatrician.  Today was our first normal day and let me tell you, it made me so happy.  The kids did jobs in the morning and went off to school, I played with Rachel, ran errands, went to parent/teacher conferences, made dinner, sat at the table, bathed kids, and even cleaned Rachel's poop out of the bathtub.  So even though our bedtime routine was a little gross and chaotic, I would take that any day over my last week and a half.  

I am grateful for Richard.  He had no idea what he was getting into when he married me.  And neither of us had any idea what we were getting into emotionally when we moved to Utah.  But he has been unwavering, caring, supportive and loving as I have muddled through so much emotion during the months we have lived here.  

I am grateful for the joy I find with my kids.  They are at such delightful and fun ages.  I genuinely enjoy being with them, talking with them, going places with them.  I am already brainstorming summer ideas and all the new places I want to explore with them this summer.  Tonight it was just me and the kids at dinner.  The conversation was so easy and so fun.  I loved watching them react to each other and to me.  We usually have a great dynamic going, and I love it.  

I am grateful for people who help.  Since moving to Utah my life has been full of the unexpected.  I knew coming here wasn't going to be easy with a move, a new job, a new school, and a new baby...but so much more has been thrown at us.  Bridget got a concussion just weeks after moving here which prompted many doctors appointments, Rachel was hospitalized the weekend of her birthday, Gretchen was transverse which led to a morning in the hospital for me, and my Grandpa Yancey very suddenly passed away.  I feel like I have been trying to keep my head above water in a turbulent ocean for the last seven months.  In Wisconsin I had my village, my tribe, my network of friends who I could call on in a moments notice and help would be at my door.  Since coming here I have had a hard time asking for help and I think this is for many reasons.   I feel like all of a sudden I got plopped in people's lives and I don't want to be a burden.  I also gave so much help in Wisconsin, and due to my current state of life, I don't have much help to offer, so I feel hesitant to ask.  But, I have had one steady thought through all of this...all of these events since moving here have forced me to ask for help.  Help from family, help from old friends, help from neighbors, help from people I go to church with that I hardly know.  And while it has been uncomfortable for me, I am thankful for people who help, whether I ask them or not.  I am taken care of.  

I am grateful for an inspired mom who sent me an email yesterday with two fantastic quotes and a talk to listen to.  Exceptional.  I have been searching for weeks for things to calm me spiritually and that email was a literal answer to prayer.

I am thankful for two dear and wonderful Wisconsin friends who check on me through frequent phone calls, texts, and emails.  I desperately wish I still saw these women on a daily basis and that our conversations were more frequent, but that is all impossible for now, but they don't forget me, and for that I am so thankful.  

And now here I am at 10:42, with eyes that are getting heavy, and just like my friend said, my flat life seems a bit brighter after writing.  Thanks for the dare.  

Time Flies...

...when you are barely surviving taking care of four children in the dreariness of winter. 

I really want to redeem this blog this year.  My goal is 50 posts in 2017.  That has to be somewhat doable right?!  Please tell me it is.  

There is so much to write about.  I feel like our lives have been completely turned upside down.  Some days are great.  Some days are so, so hard.  

For now I will say we all love and adore little Gretchen.  Richard loves his job.  We are loving living close to family.  Our kids adore their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins and the novelty of having them around has not worn off.  We miss our life in Wisconsin, but one huge benefit I have seen, and think about almost daily, is that our kids have become best friends, and I just love watching that happen.  

Gretchen is almost five months old and I feel like we have found a reasonably good groove as a family of six.  Actually, I feel like Richard and I have it down when we're together, and I mostly have it down when I'm alone!  

So, here's to a new year, even though we're already a month in!  I hope to be back soon, maybe this week, with another post, that's a bit more informative.  :)

Grandpa Yancey

Late on Friday night, on October 21, my sweet, gentle and wonderful Grandpa Yancey passed away.  His passing was so sudden that it has left all of us reeling.  Still, more than a week later, my brain wanders in thoughts that take me back to him, to that night, to all those feelings.  His death was so different from my grandma's, his wife, and I am having a much harder time with it.  It is such a strange thing to have someone alive one day, one hour, and gone the next.  I have spent so much time in his house this last week.  Seeing his laundry folded in the laundry room, his pill box with Saturday's pills untouched, his shoes sitting by the door.  It is a startling reminder that we have no idea what is coming in the next day, hour, or minute and this life is so incredibly temporary.  

I have so much I want to write about this, so much I want to write about our life in general over the last four months.  Since having Gretchen I have felt such a drive to write, just to get my feelings out, but my time is so limited and my brain is so tired!  So here I am, at 11:00 pm on a Saturday night, everyone is sleeping, and I am writing.

On Thursday, October 13, my Grandpa had a heart attack.  He was serving at the temple at the time, quickly recognized what was happening, asked for help and was taken by ambulance to Lakeview Hospital.  It was determined he would either need a quadruple bypass, or he could have stents placed. On Saturday he was transferred to the U so he could get a second opinion.  Late on Sunday night, he made the decision to have stents placed.  It was a decision all of his doctors felt good about, and his children also.  At the age of 90 he decided he wasn't interested in longevity, but instead, quality of life.  A recovery from a quadruple bypass at the age of 90 would be hard and grueling.  We all thought that with stents he could have just a few more years, continue living the way he had, and we would all have our wonderful Grandpa Yancey around a while longer.

He had six stents placed in the left side of his heart on Monday afternoon.  It was a bit of a difficult procedure, but in the end, all went well, he had a great night and was able to come home on Tuesday, October 18.  My mom and my uncle spent a lot of time at home with him for the rest of the week.  They had meals with him, ran errands with him, helped with mail and bills, did yard work and went on walks.  He was happy, they were happy, and we were all certain he was making an excellent recovery.

On Friday my mom and sister-in-law spent the morning planting daffodil bulbs in his yard while he sat on the front porch.  That evening he went to the symphony with his son and daughter-in-law.  He had bought this ticket months ago to hear a Rachmaninoff concerto.  After all of this though, he asked my aunt and uncle to go with him because he didn't feel comfortable driving alone.  They of course agreed and bought two additional tickets.  From all accounts, the symphony was beautiful and wonderful and all three of them enjoyed it.  

Just as they were pulling off the Centerville exit, my Grandpa told them his heart was hurting.  They helped him take a nitroglycerin tablet, called my mom, and asked her to meet them at his house.  By the time they got to his house, just five minutes later, he was in so much pain he could not get out of the car.  Three nitroglycerin tablets offered him no relief.  He and my mom were taken by ambulance back to Lakeview and my dad and aunt and uncle followed.  

That night I was at my house, Richard was working, and all my kids were sleeping.  At 10:40 pm I got a text from Danny, who lives with him.  It said, "If you are awake call me.  If I do not answer I will call you back."  The second I read that my stomach dropped and I knew something was wrong.  I tried calling Danny twice, but he didn't answer.  I then got a text from my dad saying that Grandpa was likely having another heart attack, it was bad, and he might go.  At that point I lost it and called Stacie.  She answered, filled me in, and I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  Within 20 minutes Danny was at my house and just minutes later Stacie came.  As soon as she walked in my door, Danny and I ran out, in hopes that we could get to the hospital before he passed away.  We walked into his room less than five minutes after he passed away.  

The first thing I heard when we walked in the room was my mom crying as she was hugging her brother.  The first thing I saw was my dad by my Grandpa's bedside; he was crying.  Next I looked at my Grandpa.  He was pale, sweaty, and had a furrowed brow.  I immediately went to his bedside, put one hand on his shoulder, and with my other hand, stroked his soft, white hair.  I had planned to visit him that day, but I didn't, and now I couldn't.  I was a wreck.  I stood there for what seemed like minutes before the doctor came in and officially called his time of death at 11:24 pm.  

I don't think we left that hospital room until 1:00 in the morning.  My parents and aunt and uncle called family, we cried, we hugged, every once in a while we laughed, and every few minutes I stroked his hair.  Looking back, I think I experienced some symptoms of shock from 10:40 on.  My legs were shaking, at times uncontrollably.  Twice I felt dizzy.  Sometimes I felt nauseated.  I have never experienced a situation like that.  Those moments are permanently etched into me now.

In the days since I have felt all sorts of feelings.  Profound sadness that someone who was a part of my life for 33 years is now gone.  Gratitude that I am his granddaughter and part of such an exceptional family.  Guilt that I did not visit him since the Monday he was in the hospital.  Peace that he is with his wife, son, parents, and all of his siblings.  I cried every single day for the next seven days.  Rachel asks me about ten times a day if I am crying again.  Every night I lay on the couch and talk to Richard about death.  I'm sure I am exhausting him.  I'm exhausting myself!

We had a family viewing on Tuesday afternoon.  This is actually the thing that brought me the post peace, calm, and closure during all of this.  One very special thing is that during the family viewing, and the viewing just before the funeral, my Grandpa's body was frequently surrounded by his great-grandchildren.  I didn't take a picture, but I hope I always remember those sweet children gathered around his casket.  I think this speaks volumes about the kind of great-grandfather he was.  These kids knew him, loved him, they knew he loved them.  They had played games with him, sat on his lap, read books with him, and even though he had passed away, they still felt so comfortable being close to his body.

His funeral was a beautiful tribute to the wonderful life he lived.  And it was a wonderful life.  He had such a successful professional life in the insurance industry.  He had traveled the world and seen so many beautiful things.  He had close associations with wonderful people.  He had had a remarkable church experience, serving as the first president of the Bountiful Temple and frequently interacting with prophets and apostles.  But, what stood out to me most, brought me the most gratitude and peace, is the love he had for his family, from the very beginning of his life until his last day on earth.  We were all so important to him, and we knew it.  Bishop Davies, of the presiding bishopric, was at his funeral and was the last speaker.  He said something that I never want to forget.  He told us that Grandpa Yancey would now be our biggest cheerleader in heaven.  He prayed for us while he was alive, and he will continue praying for us.  That brought me so much comfort, and even made me smile.  To think I have one of the best individuals I have ever known, praying for me and cheering me on from heaven, gives me strength to want to be just a bit better each day.

Our kids have been so sweet about all of this.  I told Marshall and Bridget together, soon after they woke up on Saturday morning.  I was very nervous because Bridget had asked about five times on Friday when we could go visit Grandpa Yancey.  They both took the news well though and asked lots of questions.  Just a few minutes later Bridget said the prayer for breakfast, and while I cannot remember exactly what she said, I was so touched by her kind and heartfelt words about her great-grandpa.  Bridget has drawn multiple pictures of him and for him this last week.  She is carrying around the program from his funeral and moves it from room to room with her.  Marshall has his program on his headboard.  It is interesting to see each of them react in their own way.

One thing that I keep thinking about is the timing of all of this.  There were just little miracles in the days leading up to Grandpa Yancey's death.  The fact that two of his kids and their spouses were with him when he passed.  He spent his evening at the symphony.  His last Sunday on earth, even though he was in the hospital, was a great one.  My mom, dad, uncle John, and aunt Margaret spent about 13 hours with him in his small hospital room.  All of them said it was a great, great day, even though they did a whole lot of waiting.  Since his first heart attack, family members had been taking pictures of Grandpa and sending them in group texts with updates on how he was doing.  I look back on those pictures so fondly now.  In each picture his smile was warm and his eyes twinkled.  I am so glad we have those pictures.  Also, the night he passed away, Richard was working so I was home alone with the four kids.  Gretchen is a little night owl and usually doesn't go to bed until sometime between 11:00 pm and midnight.  That night, however, she was conked out by 9:30 and it only took one try getting her to bed.  That usually requires two or three tries.  I am so glad she was asleep so I could rush up to the hospital with Danny.  Those are small, but very notable miracles.

I expect I will grapple with these emotions and thoughts for weeks to come.  I did not take my Grandpa Yancey for granted, I simply assumed he would be with us for our entire two years in Utah.  But instead, we had just shy of four months with him.  I treasured all the time we had with him this year though, and I was very aware they were special moments.  When we were visiting Utah in April Grandpa Yancey played baseball with Marshall and I asked Richard to take a video of them; I am so glad we have that.  This summer after a Sunday dinner at my parents' house, Bridget brought Grandpa Yancey a "Cinderella" book and asked him to read to her.  He did, and I took a picture.  He and my Mom came over for lunch one day this summer and we gave him a tour of our house.  He asked to borrow a book from my shelf.  I found that book in his office last weekend, with his bookmark in it.  Life is so uncertain.  He came over to visit us on Marshall's birthday when Gretchen was just four days old.  I have a picture of him meeting little Gretchen Ruth for the first time and a picture of Marshall curled up next to him on the couch.  These moments and memories are priceless; I just wish we had time to make more.

Oh Grandpa Yancey; he was such a blessing to me.  He was so kind, so gentle, so cheerful, so compassionate, so generous, so wise.  He lived his life in such a true and wonderful way.  He raised four exceptional children.  He was the quintessential grandfather to twelve.  Ten of his twelve grandchildren are married, and he sealed all ten of us.  Gretchen Ruth was his 20th and most recent great-grandchild.  He loved those kids, and they loved him.  Just yesterday, in the early morning hours, his 21st great-grandchild was born, who was given the middle name of Harold.  His passing leaves a giant hole in our hearts.  May we live up to the legacy he left us.