Hers and Mine Artwork

Two of the fun things I wanted to do this year was draw more, and share more art.

I decided to start a series of drawing with Lucy called "Hers and Mine" and posted the results on Instagram.

Here are the results so far!

The start: Lucy not really grasping my vision of matching drawings yet.
Photo reference from an Google Image search.

One of my favorites! Matching Anchorage Alaska Temples.

A mother baboon and her baby: Photo reference from Reed Miller

Butterfly: Photo reference from kids book.

Tractor: Photo reference from kids book.

Piglet: Photo reference from a kids book.

The woodland kingfisher: Image reference from Reed Miller.

Lucy loves looking through animal pictures on my computer to pick out our next subject matter for these drawings.

This was a great opportunity to teach Lucy some drawing skills, and was a fun drawing exercise to do together. Hopefully Lucy will be interested in continuing it in the future!

Death Talk: Heavenly Father's Hand

I've been thinking about death a lot this past week (even more so than usual). Last Friday my bishop called me to tell me that a family traveling through our area had gotten in a car accident nearby and some of the family members had died, while others were in critical condition and flown to our local hospital. As the president of the women's organization of our local congregation, he asked me to go to the hospital to meet with the surviving family members from the accident and offer our help.

Two of the daughters in the car died on impact and shortly thereafter. One daughter is in the ICU here and is heavily sedated and in serious condition. The mom, who was driving, and her older son who was in the passenger seat miraculously both escaped the accident with minimal injuries.

As I met with them and had the opportunity to help this family I have reflected on Heavenly Father putting people in our lives to help us, or for us to help. The thought has crossed my mind that maybe this experience was the very reason I was called to be Relief Society President in February so that I could be the one to go to them in their time of need.

I feel very blessed that I was able to be a part of their experience and try to help them through this trial. If I wasn't the R.S. President, I would not have had this opportunity.

As I met their various friends and family members and watched them embrace each other and shed tears, I felt that I was standing on holy ground. My heart ached for them and their loss and I shed tears along with them as I stood to the side and watched trying not to intrude on their moment of grief and consolation. I think sometimes in those circumstances we don't know what to do, but I felt a truth speak to my heart in that moment. Just mourn with them. Don't feel that you have to hold back the emotions or tears. Be in that sacred moment with them, and be grateful you were able to be there. Just cry with them.

I have also seen how even through heartbreaking trials and tragedy, God doesn't forget us. I have seen His hand guide us through them. I've seen this in my own trials and pain, and I've seen another testimony of this as I've been blessed to see into this family's tragedy as well. There are so many details already lined up perfectly to help us through these trials, blessings lining up as trials occur, and helping hands appearing just as they are needed.

God loves us and will help us through our pains and trials if we go to Him for help.

Death Talk: How many children do you have?

When people first meet us there is the eternal question of what to say when they ask, "How many children do you have?" 

I have done it two ways.

1. Say, "Two. Lucy, who just turned two, and Peter, who was born in October and died in November."

2. Say, "One. Our daughter Lucy just turned two."




Now, there are obvious problems with both approaches I've used. In the first approach there is an immediate need to clarify and explain that your second child just died- it was a chromosome abnormality, but it's okay, thank you for your condolences, but really, it's okay- we're okay.

This is really awkward for everyone involved and then you have to decide whether to go into the whole story  (which can be a bit much), or just change the subject. They don't know what to say, you don't know what to say, but at least they know now. You got it out of the way and you can move on with your lives and friendship/conversation.


The second approach is probably more appropriate etiquette-wise, but it is so hard emotionally to not count that missing child. You have a pressing need for them to know about him, that he existed, and that he is no longer here, and that it all happened so recently. You almost feel that not counting him is an insult to his memory- you don't want to forget him and go on like he never existed. He mattered and still does. He counts to you.

The second approach leaves it up to others to find out about your missing child as time goes by. When they become facebook friends with you and notice pictures and posts about your dead child, or when it comes up during a discussion about picking baby names and you mention a child they don't know about. Or when you give a talk in Sacrament meeting on Father's Day and talk about your experiences with Priesthood blessings, the blessing of eternal families, and the importance of the Temple.

What should you do if you are the friend and find out the second way? I would suggest mentioning it to them later and expressing a short, "I'm so sorry" and then letting the grieving parent take the lead and decide if they would like to continue that conversation. That way it gives them an opening to talk about it if they would like to, and for everyone to acknowledges the loss and life and not feel like it is a topic that has to be avoided or is taboo.




It makes sense to use the second approach and let your dead child come up in a more natural way as a friendship progresses and you invest in one another. But to me it feels like this underlying conversation that needs to be had if the friendship is going to progress very far.

One way I deal with it is to have pictures of Peter and our family of four up in our home so that when people visit they can see them and it can be an opening for them to ask about the picture and in turn, ask about Peter.

I also wear my locket when I am feeling particularly down, and missing Peter. People almost always notice the necklace and comment on it, sharing a thought or memory about him, or even telling me how much they like it and how cute Lucy and Peter are (which always makes me feel better).

Mother's Day 2012

I also write about Peter here on my blog and post pictures of him so that as I meet new people and share my life with them, they can explore the blog and learn about Peter themselves and even feel like they have a safe place to post comments if they are not sure what to say in person.

I try to make it easy for people to ask me about Peter and give them openings to talk about him if they would like to.





What other tips do you have? How would you answer this question?

Remembering Peter: Lubbock Temple

I love fog! Just not driving through it. 

We went to Lubbock last weekend to attend the Temple and were quite surprised by all the fog on our way.  

Growing up in Alaska, I only remember seeing real fog once when I was driving around town with my dad. It was on a sports field and we pulled over and walked out into it. When we got out there it started lifting and was soon gone. 

I love the look and mood of fog, and it was kind of fun to see the Temple surrounded by it, but I was definitely relieved that it had lifted by the time it was time to drive back home.

While attending the Lubbock Temple I decided that it might be one of my favorites that I have had the opportunity to go inside. The murals, stained glass, and rooms are so beautiful. My favorite is an amazing ceiling mural that makes it look like the ceiling is a huge window with gold lattice and a beautiful sky showing through. 

This time attending the Temple was very special to me, and I felt the spirit so strongly. There were two young men and two young women who were all going through the Temple for their first time to receive their endowments. One young man was about to go on a mission. 

I was sitting in the Celestial room at the end of the session thinking about that time in the future when I would actually have the opportunity to be in the presence of Heavenly Father when I saw that young man come through the doors and go to his mother for a hug. You could tell that she was so proud of him. There was a lot of love in that room as each person embraced those who had just come through. 

It reminded me of when Zach and I went through the Anchorage Temple together and had so many family members and loved ones there to hug us and congratulate us as they met us in the Celestial room. I imagine that death will be a lot like that. I imagine that when we pass through the veil we will be able to see and meet those family members and loved ones that went before us and embrace them again. 

I couldn't help but think about my own hug with my son when that time comes. 

This time attending the Temple was the most real to me. I know there are things I need to improve and change so that I can ensure that I am worthy to meet Heavenly Father and Peter in Heaven. I can't wait for that day!

Sunrise through the fog, through the car window.

Following, but not too closely. 

Ahh! Scary!

I love to see the Temple.

Peter's Memorial

How do you memorialize someone you love? What do you do to remember them?

It is nice to have a physical reminder of the one you love who is now gone. 

Zach and I discussed how we would spend Peter's life insurance money. We paid the medical bills, donated 10% of the money to our church for tithing, 10% to the Temple Fund, and saved the rest to use later on a family outing.  

I knew I wanted to use part of it for the Temple Fund because that is something that means something. It matters. It's the main reason we've been able to make it through this painful experience. The ordinances and covenants Zach and I made in the temple when we were married, make it possible for us to be a family forever, and to have Peter sealed to us for eternity. 

We believe that marriages don't have to be "until death do us part". If a couple is sealed by the Priesthood power by someone who has authority, that marriage can last beyond the grave, and children born to a couple who was sealed in the Temple, are likewise sealed to their parents forever. (Matthew 16:19) This blessing and promise is also conditional on our obedience, and keeping the promises we make in the temple to our Father in Heaven. 

We also received some money from our family friends along with this touching letter.

Today was Peter's four month birthday and we went to the cemetery to say a few words and release our first orange balloon. It is nice to have a reason to go visit his little grave site and think about him. 

The tears still flow when I think about his little body below the ground. It's easy to not think about it, but when you are right there, where his body is buried, it gives you a moment to stop and remember- and that's when the grief reminds you that it's still there. You have a little moment to grieve. Shed some tears and be sad. And miss him. So much. 

It's the respite from life, where you can stop for a moment and just cry, and allow yourself a minute to yourself and your feelings.  Then the moment passes (because it has to) and you dry your eyes and get back in the car and move on with life.

For a long time it was so hard for me to think about his body in the ground as nature took its course. It took me awhile to come to terms with the thought and not have it really upset me. 

It helped when I thought about the many pioneer mothers who had to bury their precious children in shallow graves all along the Mormon trail. It put things in perspective, and gave me comfort . Their tiny bones will come together in the Resurrection and they will be made whole, and so will Peter. Death and decay are a natural thing.

For some reason it gave me strength and comfort. 

XOXO infinity   - Lucy

A sweet memory of Peter.

A windy Texan sunset.

Smoochin' up her dad.

Getting ready to release the balloon.

Watching the balloon fly away with our memories of Peter, as I shed a few tears.