Thursday, December 19, 2013

Happy, Happy Birthday, Samantha!

Happy Birthday, to our dear Samantha girl!!
Hard to believe this cutie is already EIGHT YEARS OLD!?! Yay!

Samantha's birthday was this past Saturday, and it was a fun, busy day for her!! We started with a visit from Grandma Karen and Grandpa Dennis. They came Friday afternoon and spent the weekend with us.
We had a special birthday dinner for Samantha Friday night -- chicken enchiladas, cornbread, Spanish rice, and creamed corn, with ice cream for dessert. That was Samantha's choice, and she loved it!! I didn't take a picture of it, but you can imagine the deliciousness, right??

The next morning, our church was having a Christmas Breakfast party. So, we all went to it for a couple of hours. They had breakfast burritos, and then there was a nice program with songs and dances and even a youth orchestra. Samantha sang in a couple of different numbers, with some other little girls her age. She loved it. She's so cute -- from the second she found out they were having the church party on her birthday, she acted like it was just one more special treat for her! It was fun to see all her friends wishing her a happy day.

After the church party, I had told Samantha she could choose three friends to come over and make some Christmas crafts, and eat pizza for lunch. I didn't think I could handle a full-on birthday party that day, but a smallish play date sounded like fun. And it was. They painted some wooden Christmas ornaments, then decorated paper Christmas trees that turned out really cute. (and I didn't take pics, sorry.)

Here's the group gathered for pizza...
And... while we were busy "crafting" at home, Grandma and Grandpa quickly ran to Walmart and surprised her and her friends with birthday cupcakes... fun!
So, we put candles in them and let her make a wish, even though we had a cake for later. I love this pic of her blowing...

After friends left, she got to open and play with presents for a little while, and then it was time to get ready for her big choir performance. This fall, Samantha tried out for a professional choir group. She knew from the start that the final concert would be on her birthday. And again, she was thrilled with that idea. She really likes "events" ... even on birthdays, apparently. Here she is, I think this was after the show...
Her show was actually really good! Yes, they have uniforms, so cute. We teased my mom, because on the way in she she was surprised to learn that it wasn't a free concert, but that we had actually purchased tickets to go see Samantha perform. But then, after it was over my mom agreed it was worth buying tickets for. :)

Brian's parents came too, and afterward we had a special birthday treat of going out to dinner. We were headed to Applebees (Samantha's fave), but the wait was so long we changed our plan and went to Sizzler instead. Samantha was introduced to the all-you-can-eat salad bar, which she decided was pretty great... she filled her plate FIVE times. :) Then home again, home again, to open another present or two, and have cake with the grandmas and grandpas. Chocolate "magic" cake (with choco chips, sour cream, and pudding in the mix, sooo delish!), served with raspberries and real whipping cream...
She had trouble blowing out all those candles... her wish might come true in about eight years. :)

It was a fun day, and we're very excited to now have an eight-year-old girl at our house. Here's one last pic with Grandma, taken on Sunday afternoon in her new birthday dress from Grandma and Grandpa.
We love our Samantha girl!! Happy birthday wishes to her!

Monday, December 16, 2013

Another Monday

I bought a big bag full of green apple jolly ranchers for Wade for his birthday this year. He loves them. I found them in the bulk section at Winco and filled up a good sized bag. Then, as often happens, I took them home, put them in my pantry, and never got around to mailing them to him. One by one I sneaked them from the pantry shelf, thinking I’d mail the rest of them soon. Then they were gone, and so was his birthday. I also didn't send the card/note that was more than halfway written in my head but never actually made it to paper or to Wade.  In fact, I was on a little getaway vacation with Brian when Wade’s birthday actually rolled around. I know I thought of him on his day … I always remember birthdays. But I honestly can’t remember if I took time to call him. I think I tried, but couldn't get him, so I just left a voicemail message?

Well. Those things happen. And I know Wade wouldn't hold it against me for not mailing him a Winco bag of jolly rancher candies. In fact, I think I told him I ate them all, and he laughed. And I’m sure he didn't even mind not getting a card or letter from me… Not worth regretting, even though it turns out it was my last chance to really let him know his birthday is something special to me.
This past six weeks since he’s been gone, I've thought more about those little things that “connect” me to other people. Those little extra thoughts that really count because they come from my heart. So many of those extras are still in my heart – not on paper, not in little gifts or precious words for the people who make my life so meaningful. But I want to do better, express my gratitude more freely, more regularly. To be honest, though, I am learning my limits with this pregnancy, and I’m having to be OK with letting things stay in my heart right now, a lot of the time. But I still want to connect, in some ways. And, when others have reached out to connect with me these past weeks, it has meant so very much more to me than I could have imagined. It’s something I’m learning about grief… it seems to go hand in hand with gratitude, I guess.
Today has been a Wade day. I guess they all are Wade days. But some days I seem to feel more – or, more accurately, I allow myself to (or can’t seem to keep from) reflecting more on the memories and the sadness I feel. I've been thinking about how there seems to be a fine line between letting myself grieve and mourn, and choosing to wallow, refusing comfort and peace.  
A dear friend left a little book on my doorstep last night that I found and started reading this morning. It’s about seeking healing through the grieving process. It’s a very straightforward read, written in small doses of different thoughts about dealing with loss. The woman who wrote it has obviously experienced her share of loss, and is extremely insightful. I like it. I was intrigued with one thought she shared in particular; she discussed the idea that often when grief is fresh and so very painful, we are hesitant to ever let ourselves not be feeling the agony and hurt of our loss. It’s like the idea of ever feeling whole or having joyful times again seems almost like a betrayal to the one we've loved and lost.

I have felt this way. And, I have seen my family as we've each been going through this feeling. It’s horrific, and torturous. And not really helpful to the healing process. The book suggests that we must remember that it is the memory and spirit of the person we've lost that we truly wish to cherish – and not the grief itself. Holding onto the constant pain of grief does not help us hold onto the memories that are so precious. I hope to remember this more fully.
This weekend was a full one. It was Samantha’s birthday, and my parents came to visit us. It was wonderful to be with them, and wonderful to be very busy for several days… with Christmas festivities, birthday plans, church callings (I did a craft for Sharing Time for the children on Sunday… very labor intensive, kept me very occupied), house-keeping, and hosting my parents here.

And now, it’s been a Monday. I know Mondays are hard for lots and lots of people… the mundane after coming down from a weekend high is not something most of us relish. In particular, with this pregnancy, it’s been extra hard for me because I end the weekend with complete physical exhaustion. I've pushed and given my best to make it a good weekend – either with church callings, or family activities, or both. And then, well, I’m ready to crash by Monday morning -- physically, my productivity is sapped! Add the emotional exhaustion of this loss, and it makes for a very negative equation.
I got the kids off to school today, then crawled back in bed for another hour or so of much needed catch-up sleep. Then I got up and looked at the mess the wonderful weekend left for me, and decided to read that book, in my pajamas, instead of even doing the dishes or sweeping the floor. 
I eventually got dressed and went for a walk around our neighborhood. It’s been a foggy day all day today, and the frost has hung thick on the trees and bushes. As I walked around, I stopped in front of several neighbors’ trees and landscaping plants, just looking at the frosty creations. Wade would have taken some amazing pictures on a day like today. So I cried as I walked along, missing him. Then I went back home and got my camera to take a few pics of my own. Only, let’s face it – Wade had an awesome camera and was getting quite the practiced eye. Mine didn't turn out like his would have. But I enjoyed taking them, having those few minutes to myself today.
Anyway, now I’m tired and I'm hoping for a more productive day tomorrow, if nothing else! Er... wait! Something to look forward to... Brian got us last-minute tickets to go see The Piano Guys in concert tomorrow night. And he didn't even pay a small fortune for them. yay! That's exciting, eh? I will be more cheerful tomorrow. I promise. :) And for now, I’ll head to bed. Good night.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

A few more Wade memories

I woke up again this morning around 5 a.m. thinking of Wade. It happens almost every morning, actually. And I think it's all a bad dream for a few minutes before I'm fully awake. Then I lay there, wishing it away, or trying not to think about it, or going through every detail of the crash in my mind, wondering how it happened, what he was thinking for those last few seconds... By then I'm fully awake and I get up and use the bathroom, then really try hard to think of something else. I  should really try hard to go back to sleep, I know. But now it seems like habit, I guess, so my body thinks it's time to lay awake for an hour or so before going back to sleep. Not a good I habit, I admit. But maybe it will be a good thing once Baby comes and I have those early morning feeds?

Anyway, I know people say it will get easier, and it just takes time. I believe it. And I'm learning it takes faith, and distraction, and busyness, and an optimistic perspective, too. But mainly time. So, I'm waiting, and trusting that each day there's a little less sting when I think about it and wonder. And I'm reading, and praying, and listening to the stillness of the Spirit, which really does comfort my soul, when I'm open and ready.

And, I write, sometimes, because it seems to help.

**Today, I have a few more memories I've been thinking of, about dear Wade. On Saturday, I bundled up all my kids and let them go outside in the FREEEEEZING cold, to play in our first snow of the season. Samantha was out and back in, rather quickly -- she had some "projects" inside she wanted to complete. But Spencer and Natalie stayed out for a long time, loving the newness of it, and not caring too much about the cold, I guess. I watched them play from the window, and thought of my mom, telling me how Wade and Lance loved the snow so much when they were little. The winter my mom was expecting me, Wade was 3 1/2 and Lance was nearly 2. They lived in the-middle-of-nowhere Iowa, in a big old farmhouse in the country. The winter was cold, snowy and long. My mom said she would bundle up those two little boys and send them out to play for hours, while she laid on the couch with morning sickness. They would play hard, come in for lunch, then go back out and play some more. Every day. I wasn't even born then, so obviously this isn't  my  memory. But watching my own kids relish the delights of a snowy day made me think of a tiny 3-yr-old Wade and littler Lance, loving their winter wonderland.

Actually, Wade didn't like the snow so much once he grew up. Remember how he lived in California and Seattle for a long time? Well... there were reasons. :)

**Anyway, I've been thinking about family mealtime lately, since my kids get all whiny about who gets to sit where, every night for dinner. (Really, I should be flattered, because usually it's Samantha and Spencer, fighting over who gets to sit by Mom! ha!) We had assigned seats at our table growing up. My mom was at one end (closest to the kitchen), my dad at the other. And Lance and Wade sat on either side of my dad. Blaine sat next to Lance, I sat next to Wade -- to his left. Then Trent sat between my mom and me. Don't worry if you didn't get the whole mapped-out arrangement. The key there is that I sat to the left of Wade, for many, many years. And we passed food around the table, to the left. Well, Wade didn't take half or more of what was on the table, ever. He just passed it straight along to me. Basically, anything "green" was immediately given to me... salads, peas, green beans, relish plates, etc. (Not sure how he got away with NEVER taking any of those healthy foods, hmm??) But I generally ended up with a HUGE back-up of things to pass, as I tried to quickly spoon up my own servings of greens. And before long, Blaine or Trent would be whining at me to "please pass..." something or other. It looked like I was the super slow one, but really, it was WADE, not taking anything and being sooo fast! Believe me!! And, he would sit there quietly chuckling as I got in trouble for not passing fast enough. Even at big family gatherings, in more recent years, Wade would like to sit by me and make a big train of food piling up behind my plate, just so he could tease me about being so slow. Ah, man. I'll miss that quirky sense of humor.

**He used to pretend his hand was a spider. I can't describe it very well, and I certainly can't replicate it. But it was hilarious. It could pull me out of a bad mood ANY day, ANY time, no problem... from the time I was a girl until last time I saw him. His little "spider" would sniff around, then quickly crawl across the table to foods he wanted to eat. Or his "spider" would start sniffing around me or one of my brothers, before pouncing and attacking. It made us all laugh, just because it was not your ordinary "hand spider" imitation. It was fast, and spontaneous; it was his own little creation, and he'd make little sound affects for it too. More recently, he even used it on the nieces and nephews, and often had them squealing and giggling. I honestly don't know anyone else who can make a "spider" like Wade's. He shoulda taken that thing on the road! ;)

**One day, when I was a teenager, or maybe in college(?), my brothers and I were all sitting around the table. They were discussing hair preferences for girls they liked (not unusual... I liked to listen in and take their advice, of course. ;) Lance was describing how he liked girls to wear their hair long (they all agreed on that, naturally -- I think they were raised that way by my mom -- like it was a moral code for girls to have long hair?), and he liked them to have a few bangs in front, but to have most of the front hair pulled back, away from their face in a barrette. Trent agreed readily, saying he liked girls to have the sides pulled back, so it looked like they had actually done something with their hair.  Not sure what Blaine said -- maybe he was quiet because he secretly liked short hair?? Well, at that point, Wade said, "I like it when a girl's hair is just all down around her face, soft and flowing, with no barrette or clip or anything." Right at that moment, the clip that was holding back my hair spontaneously opened and fell to the floor. My hair came softly tumbling over my shoulders in thick curls. All my brothers sat looking at me for a second, wondering if that was staged or something. Then we all started laughing... couldn't have timed that one any better! ha!

**Another perfectly timed moment... I went through an Abba phase some years back. (er, maybe I still crave Abba every now and then. ;) I had a few Abba cassettes that I had dubbed from somewhere, and I'd blast them around the house and sing along. Good fun. One day, I was listening, and "The Winner Takes it All" had just come on -- know that one?? It has a very long, melancholy intro. Wade happened to walk in just as it started. I hadn't seen him for awhile. So he greeted me enthusiastically with, "Kambi! My Sister!! We need to talk!!!" Just as he said, "we need to talk!" the Abba intro was ending, and the song was about to start. I turned it up and loudly sang the first line to him: "I don't wanna talk..." ha! He laughed really hard about that, and I certainly thought I was pretty clever. :)

**Not-so-nice was the time the boys found a salamander in the ditch behind our house when I was a little girl. Actually, I think they had more than one round of terrifying me with a salamander, but most memorable was the day when Wade came in holding it. "Hey Kam!" he called out. "Look at this!!" He held it up right in front of my face, its slimy body wriggling to get loose. Eww! Still gives me creepy chills just thinking of it. I screamed bloody murder and started running. Unlike the normal Wade I knew, he CHASED me with it!! Really, that was NOT his normal behavior -- he was my NICE brother, who rarely terrorized me. But this time, he chased me from the family room, to the kitchen, to the living room. He cornered me against the wall by the skinny mirror (which I someday hope to inherit because it really does its job!) and jabbed that disgusting creature right up next to my nose, maybe two inches from actually touching my face. I seriously was TERRIFIED, and could do nothing but scream and scream and scream louder! He'd put it down by his side for a second and I'd stop screaming, then he'd hold it up again and another involuntary scream would come right out of me. Oh my! I don't even remember how it ended, actually -- it was that traumatic. Can ya blame me?!?

Well, Wade apologized later that same day and told me he didn't know what had come over him. Ever since then he'd bring it up from time to time and tell me how bad he felt about that. "I guess I was just so fascinated by the screaming that I wasn't really thinking about how it might have been affecting you. huh." Yeah, huh. At least I have to give him credit for only doing it once... Lance was the one who chased me into my room with one and set it on top of my BACK as I laid frozen with fear on top of my bed. Brothers!!

**Okay, a more grown-up memory... When my best friend, Alicia, was getting married 10 years ago, Wade was still living in California. Alicia's reception was an open-house in Bakersfield, the night before her wedding. And then the wedding was in the Los Angeles temple the next day. Wade drove up to Bakersfield and dropped in at the reception to be with me, then afterward I rode with him that night to LA. We had a great chat on that 2-hr drive, one that I loved and appreciated. I was going through an excruciating break-up at the time... something that I felt was right, but it still hurt very badly. So I told Wade all about it. And he sympathized perfectly. He had dated a lot by then, and all his relationships had ended with lots of tears and pain. We talked long about his past and his decision to not get involved in serious relationships, mainly because the ending was always heartache. "I don't want to see any more girls cry because of me," he told me. It seemed to me that we both eventually hoped things would end in a good relationship, where things finally progressed to a stable and happy marriage. But when I said as much to Wade, I remember he told me, "Actually, I don't think that's in the plans for me. You would not understand my reasons, unless you had lived your whole life in my shoes. But I'm not hoping for that, Kam. And don't feel bad for me if that doesn't happen, okay?" He's right; I didn't understand, and I still don't. And lots of other people have never understood either. But I do know he had his reasons for not marrying, and his life choices brought him the happiness he wanted. (And no, he was not attracted to men... if anyone wonders.)

The next day, after Alicia and Scott's wedding, Wade picked up me and my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. I think he ate lunch or dinner with us, then maybe drove us to the airport? What I remember is that Wade knew the tension and heartache that was standing between us like an elephant in the room. But you know what he did? He made us both laugh hysterically, the whole time we were with him. He kept the mood light and entertaining and enjoyable. It was, I'm sure, partly so that he didn't have to feel our awkwardness. But it was also a very selfless thing, for him to try his best to relieve some of the tension of a rough situation. That was just his way. Always. And I love him for it and am so grateful for that example in my life.

**Skipping a few years... when Brian and I were living in London, Wade had moved from California to Boise. He had taken a voluntary lay-off deal with his Calif. company, and was living off his savings for awhile. Brian and I wanted him to come to London soooo badly. He always said he wanted to come, but realistically, I think it would have been hard for him to manage the funds. So we talked on the phone a lot. At one point, he was starting to get pretty negligent about returning my calls. And my mom said she hardly ever heard from him either. I think he was going through a "downer" time there for awhile. When I finally did get him on the phone one day, I remember talking to him about doing better at keeping in touch and staying close to family. I wanted to be very upset with him, but of course he kept the mood light and casual. Then he said he'd do better, and he did. He made it a point to call me every couple of weeks or so. And when I brought new-baby Samantha home for a visit, he made time to take me to lunch -- at Olive Garden, of course.

I love that he was so good at keeping our family close. I know he made time not just for me, but for all my siblings, and my parents. And he kept it up. From that day in London, to the week before he died, we had regular phone chats, every couple of weeks at least. He'd call as he was driving to my parents' house, just to have 15 minute catch-up talk and hear some funny, cute things about my kids. My last conversation with him (did I already write this?) was the day after Halloween. He had left me a message asking how to get to Mesa Falls. I missed the call because we were in Utah, but I called him back--after he'd already gone and taken all those amazing pics (on his fb page, if you haven't seen them.) We talked about how beautiful the falls are, how I wished I could have been with him, and about what the kids did for Halloween. It was just an everyday conversation that has now become a treasured last memory of his voice and his concern and caring for me and my family. Oh how I already miss his voice -- always cheery and optimistic and interested (even when he was simultaneously online, trying to stay in a LAN game, ;))

**In more recent years, he truly became the favorite uncle to every niece and nephew. They all loved to see Wade, because he was always very enthusiastic to see them. He was excited to see them, would call them by name and give them hugs, even when he'd seen them just yesterday. One funny thing... he didn't like it when the kids were sick, because he felt like he always got whatever the nieces or nephews had. ha! Oh well... he didn't have his own, so I guess he had to have some kind of "negative" regarding kids. :) Anyway, my kids all liked playing his iPad or phone, and he would generously give it to them and tell them to take turns. Samantha especially liked drawing pictures for Wade. Through the years, she drew several lovely pieces for him. When we went to clean out his house after he died, I found several of her drawings, even from years ago. Her most recent piece was taped to the front of his fridge (a big heart with many smaller layers within, and big cut-out letters saying "I Love YOU!), along with Natalie's scribbled "circles" that I had sent Wade in September. I also saw that our Christmas cards and family pictures were taped to his fridge, and the older ones were in a drawer next to the fridge. It means a lot to me that those little things meant something to him.

This is enough, for now. I know this is probably not the most exciting reading for anyone but me. But it helps me to remember, in a way that's not so sad and heartbreaking. So... there may be more. But for now, I hope to do some "recent happenings" blogging, if I get motivated, kay? :)

Wednesday, December 04, 2013

Not sure how to make it all better

I keep reminding myself how excited we are to have this baby. I keep reminding myself how very blessed I am to have such a patient, helpful, "available" husband as my companion and partner. I keep trying to remember to be grateful for all the little moments that make my life beautiful each day, despite the emotional instability I still can't quite control.

I kiss my children in their sleep to remember how very precious these little angels are after the chaos of our day is over. And then I cry a little bit, because I'm also very aware that some of the things that have come out of my mouth throughout the day are not the things I want my children to remember about my relationship with them. As I watch them sleep, I can still see the frustration and irritation and distress I'm feeling mirrored in their little faces at those not-so-nice mommy moments.

There's the nagging feeling that I've left something undone as I go to bed every night -- which, undoubtedly, I have. So then there's insomnia, as I lay in bed energetically thinking of all I can do the next day, which invariably sounds far more productive in my head than ever happens when I really get started once morning comes. And there's the aching in my legs that grows throughout the day and usually escalates to unbearable by bedtime. But I know I should be more brave, so I try to focus on the countdown and remember that those black and blue veins running all the way up from my calves -- though very painful -- are not harmful, and will most likely get some better in just eight and a half little weeks.

A day before the funeral, one of my friends wrote to me, "Oh honey, you just need to exist for awhile." That's how I feel, but it's not just from the loss. It's just the whole package -- pregnancy, emotional instability, holiday shopping, Samantha's birthday, family Christmas parties, that feeling of being slapped in the face every time I remember Wade isn't coming back, holiday travel plans, church callings, etc... all this seems to result in me being "fine"one minute, and then, the next minute, feeling like bawling my eyes out over a book the kids dropped on the floor that is too far down there for me to pick up and put where it belongs. Wimpy, eh?

I know what I should do, how I should feel, and even what I should write on my blog for public consumption. (yes, my mother did teach me, and she probably won't like reading this post. ;) Yep, I should be stronger. I have it in me, I know I do. And I know I'll come through and things will be okay, especially if I can just focus and keep my chin up and keep those "reminders" coming -- about being grateful, cheerful, useful, etc. But, then, well... even with all that, sometimes I sit here and think about trying harder to be better, but in the event that I don't snap out of it really soon, then I start feeling guilty which compounds the problem. hmmm....

So, I guess for now I'll take my friend's advice and try to "exist" for awhile, even if that means Mac-n-cheese for dinner tonight and sneaking holiday m&ms from our candy dish in the curio cabinet. And even if that means our Christmas cards go out late, and without a handwritten note this year. And even if my scripture study is sometimes half-hearted. Well... baby steps to this baby, eh? And keep believing things will get better with time, right? :) I know. Thanks for the pep talk.

Sunday, December 01, 2013

My Memories of Wade

Wade was always four years older than I am. He was my ideal big brother in every sense of the word as I grew up. He set the example for all our family, and I know my parents were so proud of him, because they told him often how much it meant to them to see him make right, good choices that helped the rest of his siblings want to be good and make right choices also. What a blessing, to have someone so kind and gentle and intelligent to pave our path. I've always been grateful to him for that.

As a tiny girl, I couldn't pronounce his name, so I called him "Weed." He thought it was cute and funny, so when I got a little older, he would remind me and ask me to call him Weed again sometimes. So I did -- to this day. I also called him Wah-day a lot, in reference to a joke he made in junior high school: He said there was a substitute in one of his classes one day, and she was calling roll. The kid in front of him was Latino, and told her "I prefer Jorge (the Spanish pronunciation, like Hoar-hay)." Next she called Wade's name, and he told her "I prefer "Wah-day." All the kids snickered, but she didn't catch on, and she obediently called him Wah-day for the entire class. The other kids all called him Wah-day for several days after that, and then, once he told me, it was so funny to me that I guess it kind of stuck. Even when he would call to chat, just last month, he'd say, "Kambi (one of his nicknames for me), my sister!" and I would answer, "Wah-day! my brother!" Funny guy.

One favorite family story about Wade, from before I can really remember... Wade was six, and was “in charge” while my mom ran some errands and got some goodies for a picnic we were planning to take later that day. (I think my dad was working on farm equipment behind the house, so there was technically an adult present, sort of, if anyone wonders.) Wade found some matches somewhere, and started striking them, and I got scared and upset. I was NOT a rule breaker, and even at 2, I knew it was against the rules to play with matches. So, I threatened to tell on him for his deviousness.

When my mom came home a few minutes later, she could obviously smell that someone had been lighting matches. She started inquiring, and Wade intently denied at first. So, I did my duty and blurted out, “It was WADE!! Wade was playing with the matches, Mom. And he tried to FIRE MY CLOTHES!!” Apparently, when I had said I was going to tell Mom, Wade had lit a match and held it up to my dresser, threatening to start it on fire and burn up all my clothes if I told on him. Oh boy!

I was the rat, and Wade was in big trouble that day. But the sad thing is, we all kind of got punished for that one. My mom decided the thing Wade wanted most was to go on that picnic to Tautphus Park in Idaho Falls. So, even though she’d just bought all the stuff for a picnic, we didn’t go. None of us.  A sad lesson, but very effective. I don’t think Wade ever played with matches  again. And thank goodness he didn’t burn down my dresser – or the house!

When I was first starting school, Wade gave me lots of "tips" on how to enjoy and make the most of my time as a student. I remember him telling me which teachers were good, which ones might make life rough, etc. My first day of first grade, I got to ride the "big kids" bus to school instead of the little kindergarten bus. I got on nervously and found a seat. To my surprise, Wade got on behind me, followed me to my seat and sat down with me. He told me, "I probably won't sit by you every day, but this will just make you feel a little less nervous for your first day of school." What a sweetheart, huh? He also came and found me on the playground occasionally, just to make sure I was okay. He told me, "If anyone is ever picking on you, just come find me and I'll take care of things." 

Wade was extremely intelligent and loved to read. He always, always had a book with him -- or several. When I was old enough to enjoy reading somewhat, he recommended books he thought would be appropriate and engaging for me... The Great Brain series when I was younger, DragonLance novels when I was into fantasy in college. When I was in high school, I remember reading "The Outsiders" for a school assignment. I came out of my room bawling, after reading the very sad, unfair ending. Wade sat down with me and analyzed the book with me for several minutes. I remember him pointing out, "I know it's sad, Kam, but isn't it so cool that an author can make you feel so intently about characters that are completely fictitious?!" He's the one who recommended "Ender's Game" when I was really stressed with finals at BYU right before I graduated. I totally blew off ALL my classes for a day and a half and just read that book. Then I called him (and Blaine, who also loved it) to discuss and analyze it for over an hour. He thought it was so amusing that I skipped class to read, which sounded much more like something he would do, than I!

When I turned twelve, I got to go to Youth activities in the evenings once a week, at the church. Wade was 16 and he generally drove me and Lance there, and we went to our separate activities, then rode home together. One night, when I was headed to the car, Wade was outside the church on the lawn, where a few of his friends were wrestling. I stood by and watched as things started getting intense between two boys. Wade was on the sidelines, but he stepped in to break up the fight. The one who was losing bowed out, but the aggressive boy, Jim, started teasing with Wade, and jumped on Wade's back. Wade took it, for a few minutes, and wrestled light-heartedly with Jim. But then Jim was getting even more aggressive and was bigger than Wade. It wasn't a fair fight, and it was getting intense again. I heard Wade say, "that's enough, Jim" and "okay, get off now, Jim." Finally, when Jim wasn't getting the picture, Wade's voice got loud and firm and he said, "Damn it, Jim!! Get off me, NOW!" It was startling enough to hear Wade swear, that Jim immediately got off him, apologized, and Wade walked me and Lance to the car. Once we were in the car, it was easy to tell Wade was in a bad mood about that little incident. He sat in the driver's seat for a minute but didn't start the car. After he composed himself a bit, Wade turned around to face me in the back seat and said, "Kamber, I'm really sorry you had to hear that. I don't normally talk that way, and I'm sorry I had to use that word in front of you. It seemed to be the only way to get Jim to understand. But I'm still sorry." I've never forgotten how humble he was, and how protective he was of me, his little sis.

Wade was always so sweet and kind to my friends. My best friend from grade school, Kerri, called Wade her "dance partner," because when we first started attending youth dances for church, if Kerri was having a bad night, not getting enough attention, Wade would pick her out and ask her to dance, just to brighten her evening. He liked to tease my friends, but never too much. When he first met my other best friend, Amber, he came into the room with the Vulcan sign (from Star Trek -- two fingers together on each side, to form a V), and told her "greetings, Earthling. Live long, and prosper." She, of course, thought he was weird, but funny, too.

Wade went on his mission to Argentina when I was in high school. I remember writing so many "deep feeling" letters to him while he was gone. He was my secret keeper, my journal, for awhile. Our family sent him a VHS home video for Christmas one year, and each of us took a turn recording ourselves talking to him. I still can't watch that video without blushing with embarrassment... I was trying not to cry, missing him so much, wanting to tell him how much I loved him and looked up to him. It's all a little too emotionally "raw" and intense for me to see on tape, even now. But it sure does show how much I loved that older brother!

The day he came home from his mission, I was in our town's version of a Junior Miss pageant (I didn't win a single award, btw. Maybe it was the nose bleed I got during the "composure and presence" section? or maybe it was my not-so-snazzy singing routine with the red boa and black fishnet tights?) Well, I knew Wade was coming home that day, and that all my family was going to meet him at the airport. But I wouldn't be able to go with them to see him, since I was having dress rehearsals for the big show all day. So, the first time I would see Wade would be after my performance. I told my mom I had had several dreams of that moment, when I'd finally get to see Wade after his mission. In most of my dreams, he had run up to me, picked me up in a big hug, and twirled me around in the air like a little girl. I guess my mom must have told him about my dreams, because that night, after the show was over, he came running up onto the stage where I was, and he scooped me up in a big hug and twirled me around and around in my peachy satin dress, with all my family and cousins and friends watching. It was sooo exciting and memorable, and wonderful to have Wade home again. And I felt like such a princess, because he told me over and over again how grown up I was, and how pretty he thought I was. He was the first guy to ever tell me how beautiful my eyes are. And I've never forgotten the compliment.

I got to go on a fun road trip with Wade shortly after his mission. I was 18, he was 22, and he asked if I wanted to ride with him to Arizona that summer before I started college. It was a fun trip, if short. I learned that Wade LOVES to drive... and has the stamina to keep going allll night! It was so fun to talk with him about anything and everything for hours and hours as we rode along together. We stayed in Gilbert, AZ with one of his mission companions, Shawn Hastings, for a few days. I remember tasting custard for the first time on that trip and loving it. I also remember thinking Wade's friend was dreamy, but his friend thought I was a preteen until ten minutes before we were leaving, and Wade told him I was 18... the benefits of looking younger than I am were NOT real benefits to me back then. ha! Anyway, we stopped at the Hoover Dam on our way home, and stood on top of it. Pretty amazing. I think Wade spit off the top, as any brother would. Then we started our drive home. We were thinking of stopping in Vegas, but then decided to just keep driving, since Wade just had endless amounts of energy for that. About 1 a.m., he asked if I would drive for an hour or so (the first time the whole trip), so he could get a little rest. I was nervous, because his truck was a standard -- not my forte. But he gently talked me through a rough start-up, until I was up to freeway speed. And then he nodded off. Not 15 minutes later, a police officer pulled me over for a missing headlight! I was too nervous to start driving again, with that officer behind us. So, Wade traded me places and said he'd gotten all the sleep he needed. We've always laughed about how I only drove for those short miles... not much help for poor Wade. But it was a fun trip together.

One year, for Christmas, Wade drew my name for our sibling gift exchange. On Christmas morning, I unwrapped a big, green ceramic life-size turtle, painted to look very real, yet very cute. It was not what I would normally expect to receive from Wade, but I smiled and thanked him for it enthusiastically. "Yeah, you're welcome, Kam," he said. "I got it for you, for your collection." I raised my eyebrows a little, then thanked him again without saying more. The truth was, I had no turtle collection, but I didn't want him to feel bad about it or anything. So, there I sat, holding the turtle, with Wade smiling proudly at it and me. Then, after a minute or so, he said, "oh... wait a second... Oh man! You're not the one who collect turtles, are you?! That was Kimberly! (his ex-fiancee)... And oh man!! It wasn't even turtles she collected, it was FROGS!" Woops! By that time, the whole family was listening and then laughing. I kept the turtle, it's still sitting on the hutch shelf in my dining room. And, for several years, I then had a turtle collection; Wade, my dad and mom, and sometimes my other brothers thought it was fun to occasionally add one more turtle -- for my collection!

Wade came to my college graduation with my parents. He was the only one of my siblings who could make it, so my fan club was very small-- just Wade and Dad and Mom. But I was so proud to see them all three there. Wade made me really feel like it was a special accomplishment, and pointed out several times that I was the first college grad in our family. He made me feel proud of myself... and he asked about my cute roommates. :)

I can't say I got a whole lot of letters from Wade while I was a missionary. But when I did hear from him, I loved his insights and testimony... and his handwriting; it was original, including the spelling. Of all the people I know, Wade was most excited to see the advancement of word-processing programs, so some "machine" could correct his spelling for him. He often said, "If you can tell what it says, why does it need to be spelled right anyway?!" I always loved any letters or cards I got from Wade, and especially loved looking at his signature. It's original, and legible, and encompasses a lot of personality in it -- a big curvy W to start his first name, a swirling L for his middle initial, and a very readable "Hone" with a fancy H. I will miss seeing it.

After my mission, I worked in Salt Lake City for a few years. Whenever Wade was in town, he called and arranged to have lunch with me. We often went to Olive Garden where I got the salad and Wade loved the breadsticks and pasta. We both loved their raspberry lemonade. Wade always paid for my lunch, even after I was married, if I ever had a one-on-one lunch with him, he was such a gentleman that way. I don't think I'll ever drink a raspberry lemonade at Olive Garden without thinking of Wade... it's been that way for years, though -- just one of his things, ya know?

When I lived in Boston, Wade was living in California. He loved to call my cell phone and marvel with me about how cool it was to be a coast-to-coast family, all plugged in to the latest technology. "You could be standing in the sand at the Atlantic Ocean," he'd say, "talking to me while I stand in the sand looking out at the Pacific Ocean! And we could just be talking on our cell phones, like we were next door to each other! Amazing!" He set up a blog of sorts, before blogs were really a thing. He invited all our family (and some friends) to contribute to the blog whenever. It was a fun way to keep in touch, and he loved seeing all of us participate in his "techy" advancement. I think it was on his blog where we started exchanging recipes one day. Late at night, when he was beyond tired, he got a clever idea to write his own recipe... How to Make Chocolate Milk. He posted it on the blog, something like this: 1. open fridge door, and remove milk jug to counter. 2. Get a large glass from cupboard or wash one from the sink, or use a paper cup if you don't like doing dishes. 3. Pour milk into glass, as much milk as you want to drink. 4. Get Nestle's Quick chocolate powder from cupboard. 5. With a large, clean spoon, stir in 2-3 heaping tablespoons of powder into the milk. If it is not dark enough chocolatey color, stir in another tablespoon, to taste. 6. Drink and repeat if necessary. End. Well, he told us that after he'd posted it to the blog, he thought his recipe was so clever and funny (mainly because it was sooo late, and he was sooo tired), that he decided to go ahead and email it out to all his colleagues at work, including supervisors. Ha! After a good night's sleep, he woke up and remembered what he'd done, with some embarrassment. His colleagues were amused... at least some of them. But it was rather random and, in retrospect, quite hilarious. I wish I could find his REAL recipe, somewhere...

Wade came to see me twice in Boston. Once, he was in NY for a quick work conference. He convinced a colleague to go in on a car rental for the one free day he had, and they drove up to Boston just for a couple of hours. We went to dinner, then he and his colleague drove back to NY to continue their conference. It was such a treat to see him there, and to have his "compliments" about New England, which I had grown to love. He came again a couple of years later, for just a day or two. I remember he took a red-eye to get there, but then insisted that we not waste the day with sleep. So me and my friends and boyfriend took him all around the city. He LOVED it and acted sooo excited about everything we saw together, especially all the spring blooms. He took pictures all over the city. At one point, I got pulled over for a right turn on red, but really my light wasn't red. When the officer started to scold me, I showed my East Coast aggressiveness and argued with the officer, knowing I was right. Wade was shocked at how bold I was, and smoothed things over politely with the officer, while trying to "shush" me. He liked to tell that story in front of my parents, for some reason -- even at our most recent family bbq this summer, that story came up. ha!

When Brian and I got married, Wade wrote the sweetest tribute to us both, in my friends-and-family journal I was keeping at the time. He made me feel like I was getting the BEST guy in the world, and that he was soooo excited to have Brian as his one and only brother-in-law. He was going through a somewhat hard time right then -- he had been laid off from his job in California, and had moved to Boise. He'd not been very active in church for awhile. But he made an effort to go back to church, and get to know his bishop and ward members, so he could be worthy to renew his temple recommend, and be with us in the temple the day we were married. That meant a lot to me. I have a picture of my four brothers and me on my wedding day. It's one of my favorites from that day -- one I always dreamed of, long before I knew who I would marry or what my day would be like.

This is getting long. And I am loving writing it. But now, I must sleep. So, I'll probably add to this soon. But I want to post it, while it's fresh, and while I'm reliving such sweet memories without feeling too sad about it all. Let's just say, to be continued......