Day 13

Dear Melynda,

Today has ended well. Today I tried to carry on a conversation with a friend and every other sentence I couldn't get out straight. I think I am tired. She just laughed. I have to be honest. I feel tired. I feel psychically and something else tired. I am not sure what it is. It is something inside that makes me feel like I just want to lay down and sleep. I think it is the daunting task of moving on with life. You see I don't know how. Yup, there you go. Me (who you always thought was such a know-it-all) doesn't know what to do.
Today Kate and I took our lovely time walking around Frederick. There is wonderful boutiques all along Main Street. I know you remember because while I was walking hand-in-hand with Kate I looked across the street and this pain hit me. I looked into the front windows of the shop that we spent hours shopping in. This store is filled with antiques and is deceptively, from the look of the small front door, humongous. If there is one thing you can't resist it is a good deal. We were there for awhile. So here I am walking with Kate and I had the strangest feeling wash over me. I literally wanted to curl up in a ball and just lay on the ground I was hurting so bad. There was literally a porch to someone's townhouse right next to me and I thought, "there is a nice spot". I just wanted to be mad and sit there and shout that it wasn't fair. Then I actually pictured myself doing it and it made me laugh out loud. I have never had a compulsion come over me like that before. Do see all the crazy things you are starting to make me do?
I remember that day. Literally lifting the slab of 1/2 inch thick ice off my car and you saying, "what the heck?! That is why I live in St. George." Followed up with your belly laugh. Taking my three week old baby and going to every shop and walking for hours. You could out shop me any day of the week and I was so exhausted but it was so fun. When I was telling Kate today about our time there she asked me if I bought anything and I said, "No but I am sure your aunt Melynda did. She always found something she loved." I am sure you did even though I can't remember what. I can remember scouring the city streets looking for a fax machine, for something, and you trying to charm the poor bank teller into letting you use theirs. You are shameless (and brave). That is the same day we came home exhausted and frozen and you whipped me up your wonderful biscotti while I laid in bed. It was a good day. One to always remember.
Really though things are generally good I just have this gloom hanging in my heart that I can't seem to kick. Tonight I pulled out my scriptures but decided to go for a General Conference talk instead. I had one of those "flipped to the right page" moments. I turned to this talk. I wanted to share the first story with you:

At the end of a particularly tiring day toward the end of my first week as a General Authority, my briefcase was overloaded and my mind was preoccupied with the question “How can I possibly do this?” I left the office of the Seventy and entered the elevator of the Church Administration Building. As the elevator descended, my head was down and I stared blankly at the floor.

The door opened and someone entered, but I didn’t look up. As the door closed, I heard someone ask, “What are you looking at down there?” I recognized that voice—it was President Thomas S. Monson.

I quickly looked up and responded, “Oh, nothing.” (I’m sure that clever response inspired confidence in my abilities!)

But he had seen my subdued countenance and my heavy briefcase. He smiled and lovingly suggested, while pointing heavenward, “It is better to look up!” As we traveled down one more level, he cheerfully explained that he was on his way to the temple. When he bid me farewell, his parting glance spoke again to my heart, “Now, remember, it is better to look up.”

As we parted, the words of a scripture came to mind: “Believe in God; believe that he is … ; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth.”¹ As I thought of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ’s power, my heart found the comfort I had sought in vain from the floor of that descending elevator.

I know when you were going through hard times I would send you links and clips from some of my favorite talks. Then you would write back about how you felt about them. I remember the last one I sent you was by Elder Uchtdorf called, "Forget Me Not". It is my favorite talk and you shared with me what it meant to you and how you had put its principles to use in your life, so I thought it was my turn to share with you.

I love this story and it has stuck with me since General Conference. I thought it wonderful then when I read it tonight and it was just the answer to my prayer that I needed. I realized something. I am very much like that man. I have my "briefcase full". I am doing my business and going about my life. I am doing what is required of me and trying to move forward. However, I realized tonight that I often spend my time "look at the ground". I am just trying so hard to push through that I forget where I can receive real strength from. Not just "enough" strength to get through but the strength to live, learn and thrive like I am meant to. In one part he says,

Why is it a challenge to consistently look up in our lives? Perhaps we lack the faith that such a simple act can solve our problems. For example, when the children of Israel were bitten by poisonous serpents, Moses was commanded to raise up a brass serpent on a pole. The brass serpent represented Christ. Those who looked up at the serpent, as admonished by the prophet, were healed.⁴ But many others failed to look up, and they perished.⁵

I don't feel as though I am perishing but I also realized I am not thriving. I hope that you are watching over all of us and maybe giving me just a second of your time every now and then. Maybe you helped me find this talk that I needed so much. Carrying on our tradition.

I hope someday I can go to that store and walk those streets and it can be a place to enjoy and remember. It is difficult to have every thought of you hurt. Especially because in reality you always brought joy wherever you went.

I know that this life isn't the end. I know we have trials to learn from them and that is sincerely what I am trying to do. I know you are okay. I think you miss your girls, your husband, your family and friends, but I know you. I know your perspective is great. It was that way when you were here and I am certain it has broadened even more. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Lar

Day 12

Dear Melynda,

I think the greatest challenge we ever faced in our relationship was me growing up. When I was younger I gladly let you assume the mother roll. You cared for me and gave me advice. In some of my most desperate and hardest times I knew I could always confide in you. When I was going to junior high and high school in Northern Utah I would often become so homesick for you I would be shipped down to spend the weekend with you and Dave whenever possible. I would always come back feeling better about life in general. I can't say I remember any grandiose reception I just remember being with you, being loved and cared about, being trusted, and having lots of fun. When we were with you you and Dave's life pretty much revolved around me, Cameron, and Jay.
Then I got older, I got married, and had children. This was so hard. I actually think it is probably similar to what most mother and daughters go through in their own relationships but it was more complicated because our wasn't legitimate. It was just something we had made up and made do with all our lives. I remember one day you and I having a disagreement. Afterward I fiercely apologized but I knew that you were still upset. Well we did what all sister do when the fight and we didn't talk to each other for half the day. I was frustrated because I didn't want it to be that way between us. The big moment for me came when you came to me later wrapped your arms around me in a big hug and said, "I am sorry! I should have accepted your apology the moment you said it." I then went on to say that it was my fault and I am sorry again and again. I just remember that feeling of elation. It was the first time I had felt like you spoke to me not just as a little sister/daughter but as an equal. Like we had both finally come to a point in our lives where we were on the same page wife, mother, adults. So that day in Grandma's driveway the day I felt like you began to see me differently.
Thinking of this argument today not only brought back memories of that day in a good light but also the fact that I wasted half of that precious day fighting with you. Today has also become a day of regret. I am not above regret. I used to believe in the saying, "live without regret". Now I realize not only is that impossible but it also, in my opinion, can come with a feeling of arrogance. I live with regrets because I have made mistakes in my life. There are things I wish I had done differently. I wish I would have called more. Made you answer your phone just so you could tell me to stop calling. I wish I would have hugged you tighter that last time I saw you and made it a memorable good bye. I wish I would have understood your trials better. I wish I would have caught your zest and love for creating. Which I now feeling you are showering down on me each day. I wish I would have written down all you marvelous recipes, especially the ones you created. Now it burns inside every time I want to make something of yours but I can't call ask you for it. I wish I would have never said a word that brought you pain or made you feel less than you are. But I have done all those things and so I live with regret. I do realize that living without regret is impossible. Did I know you were going to die?..No! Did I think you had forever to teach me to sew and create and love it as much as you did?...Yes! Did I honestly believe I had a life time to learn all you secret recipes and cook just like you?...Yes! I honestly believed that we would be two old ladies with houses right next door to each other sitting in our rocking chairs talking about all our neighbors and "kids these days". I expected to have days and days of sewing quilts and cooking all of Grandma Rousell's and Grandma Smith's recipes. I think we had even agreed to do all those things. We had hoped that after spending all these years living on opposite sides of the continent that we would get houses right next to each other. We had decided if we had a life time of our hubbies moving us around. We would choose where we ended up...a very well though out argument, if they did protest, I thought.
What I do hope, and what I think you would want, is that I have learned to take advantage of the moments I am given. I do my best to relish my most important relationships and people. I know that you are...probably....not the last loved who will slip away before I do so I am trying to learn from my regrets. I am trying to cherish what I have and giving space and time to what I will miss most should that person be gone soon.
My heat squeezes at that phrase, "miss most". As I am trying to desperately discern, remember, and pull every memory of you from my mind so I can freeze it forever in words. I am learning not only that it is ginormous task but that it can't all be put to words. I can't say all I miss because so much of it is intangible. I didn't know that the mere fact of you not existing in this world would bring so much pain. That leaves everything else out. Just that idea hurts so much. With that in mind I realize I won't ever be done recording your memories because so many I can't recount in words completely or they may take time to do. I do know that you were a great person and a great sister. I feel lucky to have someone to look up to. I feel blessed that you left this life with a testimony of Jesus Christ. It brings so much peace. I know I will see you again. What a day that will be. I can't wait to see you run. That gives us all hope and something to look forward to. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Lar

Day 11

Dear Melynda,

At the risk of being redundant I wanted to sharing something similar today about a conversation I had with Kate. I was trying to explain to her why we can't be mean to people and how kindness is always the way. (I could write a whole post on your philosophy of kindness as well.) Well she didn't like this. We were talking about a friend in particular and she said, "mom I just have a hard time with her and it is just too hard to be nice." Well I was a little stuck I wasn't quite sure where to go with that. I am okay with my child having weakness but how do I teach her that we don't just roll over and say "die" when it is hard. Well since you are my favorite topic of choice right now a wonderful and tender story popped into my head.
I related to Kate about after you had your stroke. You were unable to use half your body and if that wasn't bad enough you were in a wheel chair because of your previous injury. I explained to her that you had a choice to make. You could either stay in your wheelchair and never get better or you could choose to get better. (I remember you telling me of one lady who went to therapy after a stroke and who was your age. She quite after a few weeks and never went back. She will always be paralyzed.) I then explained that getting better wasn't easy. It was painful, it was hard work, and it even made you cry... a lot sometimes...with discouragement. I told her even though it was hard work you did it because you knew it was worth it. I then told her the story about how you told the doctors you were going to be walking again by you 30th birthday. They said there was no way. They said you would be lucky to be up out of your wheel chair in therapy by that time. It was only 9 months after your stroke and accident. But you had made up your mind and you did it on crutches. You were so proud.
I remember two very emotional phone calls of accomplishment I received from you. The first time it is when you opened and closed your hand for the first time without help. I knew it was huge. I knew how much you had payed in pain for each nerve you had to regrow to get your hand to move again. You were elate and I took joy in the simpleness of the blessing you had recieved. I NEVER look at my hand and rejoice that I can open and close it. Now I often find myself caught up in that simple act.
The second was when you took your first step on crutches. You had wanted to be completely walking by April. We wouldn't find out for another year you would never walk on your own again. Those first steps meant so much for you. Crutches were such a blessing. You felt so free and more able to move around and care for your girls. I remember how much it broke my heart when you would go into your girls room to put them to bed but your wheel chair couldn't get in all the way so you would have to stay at the door way and tell them good night. You could never go lay by them, or help pick out their clothes and when they shoved all their dirty clothes into the corner of the room you would never know. That would be every teenagers dream though. :)
Thanks for being someone I can tell my daughter to look up. I know she loves you and she really felt your love so the stories I tell her about you really matter. You are a great sister. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Lar

Day 11

Dear Melynda,

Just for your little update. Everyone is doing good. This week has been a very good week. They other day I talked to Jayanne and we always ask the "how are you doing today?" We were using a rating system at first, when you were in the hospital and right after you died, between 1 and 10 because it was the dumbest question to ask. In the beginning there weren't really words. We all new how everyone was doing...terrible, but the question always came up anyway. Now though the emotion vary day to day so it is a justified question. I asked Jay and she said, "I am doing much better than last week. I am in denial." I said, "Well it seems like denial is a pretty good place to be then". She sounded happier than she had in awhile. I think I am there right now too. I know it won't last but I am just enjoying my productivity that is a direct result of my state of denial I am in right now.
On that note I was thinking of you over the past couple of days. Denial has brought me a wonderful sense of humor. I am working on a secret project right for your girls. I will tell you more later..even though you know already what it is. I have had to crack out my sewing machine again I know you are secretly smiling at me up there because of it. You always worked so hard to get me to do sewing projects with you. Remember all that material we bought when Joe was born to make a skirts for Kate. Well lets just say I haven't sown one stitch since you left. Now I feel so guilty about it that I am going to have to finish and pass them along to Josalyn.
Well my super secret project got me thinking of you. At your viewing Dave's sister, Debbie, started talking to me about the summer that Lyla started teaching you how to sew. She bought you a new sewing machine and you learned to make these draw string skirts. She was laughing because once you learned how to make them you made a ton of them. For everyone who was staying at the Thomas' home. Which was a lot because all their family was visiting. What I remember most about you learning how to sew was how angry it made you. I still can remember all the threats you made to throw that sewing machine in the pool. You would come out ranting and raving about something that was all the sudden going wrong with the machine and how you were going to just toss it in the pool. David and I stepped lightly during these moments. Eventually you would figure it out and would go on to design and sew your own clothes...with a much better machine mind you.
It also, shamefully, reminds me of the month after your stroke. As project oriented as you are you needed something to do, I already mentioned all the canning you did about the same time. Somehow you talked Jayanne and I into making Halloween bags with you. Well we set out designing , cutting, and sewing them. You shamed us real good! Jay and I were still cutting ours out and I was just starting to sew my first bag when you finished the last stitch on your third bag. It was ridiculous. And you only sewed with one arm! We all had a good laugh about and did for the last couple of years. Whenever you would mention sewing projects to me I would sheepishly remind you of that story so you would remember what you were getting yourself into. You would push through and insist on doing it anyway.
Melynda Thomas can do hard things! I will always remember that about you. You did hard things over and over again. Just when we all thought God was done teaching you a lesson he would give you one more to learn. I don't begrudge him and I know you didn't either. I know it was hard. Of course it was. Sometimes you figuratively wanted to take all your trials and "throw them in the pool". That is the best part though. It was hard for you but then after you faced the fact that this was hard you made a mental choice to go for it anyway. No matter how hard it was or how many times it took to get it right.
It is easy when someone is gone to take there life and memorialize into a floating life of perfection. But I can't do it! I won't do it. That is what I have come to appreciate the most about your life. You took all that hard and messy stuff and said, "look what I can do with it". This is what I will teach your girls. That their mom did hard things. That they are a Miller/Thomas and they too can do hard things. (The stubbornness is Miller trait but I know you adopted many Thomas traits of perseverance and commitment.) Heaven knows at times life with be hard.
Thank you for watching over us. I really appreciated that special moment the other day. I haven't felt you that close since the last time I saw you. Don't forget about Jay and I. We want to help and do what you would have us do for your sweet little family. Everything we do for them we try to do with you in mind. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Lar

Day 10

First I want to apologize for any who might me following this trip down memory lane. My computer is on fritz right now.

Dear Melynda,

Who would ever think that a funeral would be a popularity contest? It was impossible during something like to take time to pause and think what if this was me? Who would come? Who would care? Then there are the more important questions like: Have I done all that I wanted and all that I was meant to do? Have I helped those around me enough? And probably most important: Did I show and tell those I am leaving behind that I love them?
I know I wasn't the only one during those first few days, after you were gone, wondering these things. It is a huge blessing to be shoved into that sort of reality. It awakens apart of you you didn't know was sleeping. Not only does you appreciation for life increase but also your desire to make this life something of value and good also.
All I can really sum it up in is that I am proud to be your sister. I remember going places with you. When I brought you, I brought the fun! People loved to be around you because they felt better about life and about themselves when they were around you. I remember you being around even the most stone, cold people and eventually you could get them to crack a smile, if not more. I think it was that laugh of yours that eventually wore them down.
Looking back now it is easier to see what a good friend you were. Mostly I can see what you did for me and how you replicated that act over and over again for many others. You love, you cared, you gave, you nurtured, and mostly you made us all smile. You helped us all feel welcome in your life. I witness what a true friend can do. They create fiercely loyal and devoted friends. Friends who will be around even after you are gone to help us move on. Thank you for that gift.

I guess more than anything as I have had time to reflect and ponder over over my memories I am most grateful for your example. In church we are constantly taught to be like our Savior Jesus Christ. That can be a hard thing to put into perspective. There are so many things now that I can see him acting through you for the benefit of others. Remember when I called you are crazy because I just had a baby. You listened to me for five minutes got Chris on the phone and said, "she has postpartum depression. Take her to the doc. It will help everything." You saved me from one of the most difficult times in my life. I feel strongly that you were being a helper to Him.
I feel I am completely unable to express this subject properly about you. I can remember being younger and I would talk to my friends about you at random. Something I do now even more. I just wanted everyone to know how great you are and, even more, I felt no one could possible have a sister that great.
I fear that as time moves on my memories will dim. That is probably one of the cruelest tricks of all. It is hard enough to lose you but to lost all these things so dear to me makes me ache already. I pray they may stay and I can always remember how wonderful it is to know and be your sister. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Laurin

Day 9

Dear Melynda,

Do you remember us talking about how lucky we were to end up with the Hubbies we have. For all the chaos that our family went through we were all blessed to settle down with spouses who have pretty normal, supportive families. I have really been able to feel that love over the past few weeks from my own family. I have especially marveled at my husband. He doesn't understand all the inner turmoil that is going on. I remember reading a quote from another lady who had lost a sibling. She spoke of how aggravating it can become when everyone around her would become afraid to talk to her especially about the death of her brother. She knew that they were afraid that talking about it would bring more pain but then she went on to say, "it is all I was ever thinking about so to be able to talk about it was a relief." It isn't a wish we have that is just how it is. Your mind is consumed with it. Even while you go about your lovely days there is always a film going on in the back of you mind playing a different part of the same show. There are very few times that I truly forget. Then when it all comes rushing back it is almost crushing. It is almost better to stay submerged where you can constantly manage it instead of be overwhelmed by it.
Anyway I had made a choice not to make this the center of conversation in my household. It is natural and wonderful to talk about you especially with my kids and it is fun when Chris and I start to reminiscence and laugh about all our memories of you. He still thinks it is funny that you are still mad at him for siding with me when we planned our wedding. You two will have to work it out someday. I know he doesn't understand that this is a constant battle so when I start to crack a little or I just need him to be a sounding board he is always there. He just lets me rant about my newest discoveries or insight. I am waiting for the day when he says, "Just be quiet already. You are such a downer!" He hasn't though. Lucky me.
This had me thinking about your Dave. We always used to compare how much a like and different they are. One thing we would often discuss was how the both of them would do pretty much anything for us. Definitely Dave more than Chris we agreed upon. I have yet to see what you couldn't talk Dave into doing. I think when he agreed to help you make a duct tape mannequin your size, so you could put the clothes you sewed onto it instead of trying them on yourself, I knew he would do anything for you. I have never met two people like you. Passionate. You passionately loved and passionately disagreed. I love to watch him melt your anger with his charm. He was such a schmoozer. He knows it too.
I remember having family dinner with you, me, Maya, and Dave when I lived with you. He had this scheme going on in his head. I don't know if you put him up to it. He tried to make a bet with me to not date anyone for the first year I went to college. He was completely serious and I didn't know what to say. I had just met Chris after all and I already had a really good feeling about where that was going. I don't think he had met him yet.
I am grateful for the impact that you both have had on my life. I know that I have told you this before but it really was the two of you that made me decide who I wanted to be. After seeing your happiness and devotion to each other I really wanted that life. Thanks for always being the example. You are a great big sister. I am grateful Heavenly Father is in charge. He knew we all needed you to look up to. We still are...literally. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Laurin

Day 8

Abbi, Melynda, Kate, Macie

Dear Melynda,

Well, no, the anger hasn't passed. You were always so good at smiling away the bad. I think it may be my friend for awhile. Don't worry though I don't go around yelling at everyone. I don't let it out when others are around. I know it would do no good only make me feel worse. I am, however, letting myself be angry and okay with it. I just have times were I find my self alone, and all the niceties of life have left me, and all my memories of the past two months (I can't believe it has been that long) come rushing back. I feel like I am suffocating. I am often taken off guard by how strong and difficult each emotion that is thrown at me is.
Today I was feeling particularly swallowed up by it all when I was teaching preschool for Carter class. I began thinking about how behind I am on teaching him and Kate. I really need to get with the program. Before I came out this summer you had told me you made all of these packets for the girls when you were trying to teach them how to read. You said you would pass them along to me so I could use them with my kiddos. We completely forgot about it. What can we say we were having fun not thinking of school! Now, however, I would give my left arm for those. I remember the hours and hours of time you put into creating, cutting, and laminating each one. I was always so impressed one: with your drive; and two: and your strong dedication to teaching as much to your children at home as they learned at school. When each one of them struggled with a particular subject you made it your personal mission to get them through it. I remember many phone calls of worry when one of them was struggling. They have carried that on and have been so diligent in all they do. I remember when I was staying with you the summer you had your stroke Maya and Macie would come home and get right to their homework. I LOVED it! I find my heart and prayers full of thanksgiving that you raised those girls to be so self sufficient and taught them so well. They had lots of practice during the past two and a half years since your stroke to learn to do things on their own. I don't think any of us could see how much they would need it. Thank you for being the type of woman and mother that could be inspired, would listen, and do it. There are so many things that I look back on your life and I can see how you were pushed to do things that would now bring us comfort. I just wish it wasn't so hard for me to learn the things I need to. Thanks for being my teacher as much as anyone else. I am grateful I had a front row seat to it all. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Laurin