families are forever and so are friends

Bruce and I attended the funeral for Tyson Sherwood in Utah this past weekend. It was beautiful and peaceful, the sun peeked through the clouds and shone over us all as we huddled around the grave site, and we celebrated the life of a dear little one.

These pics were taken at the luncheon afterward.



















For more on how families can be together forever, see here.

While we were in Utah, we stayed with our good friends, Matt and Tiffany. We all met back when we lived in New Jersey and it had been five years since we'd last seen them. We hadn't even met their little boy, Tyler, yet. But some friends make it easy to pick right back up where we'd left off. Somehow, though, I forgot to snap pics of us together. Let me go steal one off their blog...


Sorry, Tiff!

Bruce and I are grateful for the amazing friends we've made along the way. Families are eternal, to be sure, but so are friends. When our time comes to pass beyond the veil, that is going to be some kind of reunion, no?

love, faith and prayer

I snapped these photos a few months ago. And now I can't stop looking at them. They are dearer to me than ever now.

I hope Amanda and Josh will forgive me for what I am about to share.

Tyson is not the first baby they have lost. They also lost their second child, Andrew, when he was three months old from SIDS. He passed away two-and-a-half years ago in July 2007. Losing one child is hard enough. To lose a second child is nearly unbearable. And because I love them and care for them, their overwhelming grief becomes my own. It pierces my own heart and I bleed with them.

Yesterday late afternoon, I went to their home. When the door opened, I noted the faint smell of clean laundry and the hum of a dryer going. The mood was quiet and subdued. But the moment I stepped over their rough, brown doormat, I was overcome by the presence of the Spirit. It was more than a feeling. It was as if it blanketed the air and thickly snuggled you in when you entered and breathed, spreading warmth. Palpable warmth and the love of God straight to your center. I didn't want to leave.

When I mentioned this to Amanda later, she said it was the outpouring of love, faith and prayers on their behalf. That this is exactly how it was when Andrew died. And I haven't been able to shake the wonder of the experience. It stayed with me all through the night and has not left me today. I always knew Heavenly Father loved His children. I always knew He comforted them when they looked to Him for comfort. But I didn't really understand how He bears us up mentally, emotionally and physically until that moment. Or how He answers faith and prayer in behalf of those we love.

Amanda and Josh have incredible strength. I feel so privileged to call them my friends.

tyson

The world lost a little piece of sunshine yesterday. I have never felt more heartbroken and helpless as I have the past two days, watching our dear friends, Amanda and Josh, suffer the loss of their 15-month-old son. I wish with all my heart I could carry their grief and relieve their pain.

Little Ty-ty, we love you and are so grateful to have known you.

'sup

I just wait-listed myself for two different online photography classes:

Sheye Rosemeyer

and

Jessica Sprague

Did you click on the links? Don't they sound fun? Is there anyone out there who has taken online photography classes from these people? And do you know about others I can check out? Avísanme, por favor. I'm excited to challenge my brain a little, because at the moment words like aperture and shutter speed make me nervous and confused. And I don't need that in my life.

Also, Church starts at 9 a.m. now. Praises be. Now if I can just get myself released...

christmas 2009: it came and went

And now I've lost my blogging mojo in the fervor of merry-making. But here is me mustering up just a little more juice for the road.

We partied Christmas Eve at my friend Fashion's place. And somehow both she and her baby bump eluded my camera lens all night. On purpose, I am sure. I also brought over my electric piano for a little caroling. In all my years of playing the accompanist in such settings, I've discovered three types.

Set numero uno will not go near the piano and seek to slink into a dark corner of obscurity for fear of being called out for a solo. Set numero dos will eventually slip into a choral duet when cajoled. And set numero tres has no fear of ridicule and incredible stamina. These are the marathon carolers. They can sing for hours (maybe days) and occasionally this is the set that must literally be pulled from the piano as they white-knuckle grip the bench. For this reason, I used to hate my mother for making me the designated accompanist during family/friend gatherings. What teenage girl wants to go through life with a sore bum, achy fingers and three rounds of "Jingle Bell Rock". But now I welcome the role with fondness and a smile. One more round of "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree"? Why not. Sing away, friends. Sing away.







Christmas Day was so relaxing and chill, I'm thinking now I may have slept-walked through it. The boys were in a battery-powered tizzy and M was channeling Medusa after day-before pigtails. We were especially thrilled that Pete was here (excluding the chia pet attached to his face when he arrived.) But we have all learned a very important lesson this Christmas when it comes to L and durability.

















My favorite Christmas present was getting Pete to shave off his America's Most Wanted facial smack. It only took one quesadilla. Total bargain and I could finally look at him again without retching.







Up next: Guanajuato trip.