Flying by myself with babies and kids is one of the worst and most stressful first world problems for me. However, every time I have flown by myself with babies (which has been quite a lot since we have lived far away from family ever since we've had kids), God has always sent angels to help me. When a stranger offers to carry a bag or a baby or hold a door for me, when a person on a plane offers a snack or a toy to my kids, or when I receive words of encouragement when my heart is pounding out of my chest and I'm sweating through security, I feel that familiar voice whisper, "I'm here. I know this is hard. I am helping you."
This flight was no different - I had plenty of angels helping but as we took off, I could sense that we had a heavenly angel with us as well. I wrestled Kate for the entire hour and a half, but my anxiety went away and I felt so much peace and love and calm as I thought of my sweet mother-in-law and the beautiful life she led. I thought of how there was nothing she loved more than helping and being with her grandkids and I imagined her sitting next to me on the flight helping, holding, and loving on her grandchildren.
When we landed, I got the text that she had passed away peacefully, surrounded by her parents and family. Jack and David were asking so many questions, so we took them to see her body before sending them with my dad to Salt Lake City. We stayed with Spencer's Dad and siblings and mourned, laughed, cried, hugged and remembered sweet Debbie while the veil was still so thin. I love her, will miss her so much, and I take comfort knowing that we have an angel mom and grandma who will continue to help, nurture, and guide us.
“Sometimes as people of faith, we often place the memory of our loved ones up on the high shelf of a future hope. I myself do so. We remember them, and we hope for them, but usually in the context of, "One day I will see them again..." There is nothing wrong with this, but I think we may sell our selves short-- short of a greater, and continued relationship with all that is beautiful in our loved one. A relationship that can be very real in the here-and-now, in addition to the "one day" many of us hope for." - Trevor Boynton
Two simple ways we plan to keep her alive in memory:
1. “Speak Her Life”. We will continue to weave her life into our own. We will make orange rolls and breakfast casserole on holidays and bake her pies on Thanksgiving. We will gather as a family often, plan parties, play games, and share memories of her together. We will laugh when after an hour of indecision for dinner, we end up ordering her favorite Chinese take out 🙂 We will go camping and boating with Swedish fish and peanut m&ms in tow. On the rare occasion that we are up and going in the wee hours of the morning and accomplish more by 9 am than what most people accomplish in an entire day, we will know that we successfully pulled a “Debbie Hall.” When we have trouble sleeping, we will count blessings instead of sheep, and we will always strive for her level of patience, work ethic and goodness. We will try to laugh, love, and serve as she did.
2. “The 50% Reality” Half of what makes Spencer, Spencer, is Debbie. He is strong, calm, brave, and resilient like her. I see her in the color of his eyes and hair, in his love for sweets, and in his passion for playing the piano. He is so much like her, always serving and always loving with so much patience and with such a big heart. There were never enough words to thank her for the gift of Spencer. I love him so much and I know that so much of who is he is because of who she was. ❤️
