Twenty Three years

It has been twenty three years since my Dad left us. My scab is open today.

Garth Rose 1946-2011

It has been an entire month I have put off writing about my Uncle Garth's death. I guess it is time.

My Uncle Garth is my Mom's baby brother. He is the youngest of nine children. My Mom tells the story of when Garth was born. In those days no one talked about pregnancy, so my Mom and two other younger siblings had no idea what was happening when the taxi(yes-a taxi in our tiny, tiny town) came and took their parents to the hospital. My Mom-Veda Mae(7), Uncle Ronnie(6), and Aunt Verla(4) hid in my grandparents closet "howling" because they thought their mother was dying! They were all pleasantly surprised when the new baby brother was brought home.

My Mom and her sister and seven brothers have always been close. However, I personally witnessed my Mom and Uncle Garth's relationship get stronger twenty three years ago. Twenty three years ago on Friday my Dad succumbed to a serious depression and committed suicide. He was forty six years old. My Mom was forty nine. I was nineteen.

To say the least, it was a horrible, difficult time. I am the youngest of four. I was attending college. My sister lived in Utah, my oldest brother Royce was married and Vance was working nonstop. Mom was alone-a lot. This was a time before cell phones and 24/7 connections! Over the course of the next two years I called my Mom--constantly. I needed it, she needed it. However, often when I called she wouldn't be home. I always worried. I automatically called Uncle Garth and Aunt Ann's house. Nine out of ten times she was there. Many times a week I would call and they had just been by with some food. I think that my Aunt Ann's food was the only real food my Mom ate for two years.

As time always does it slowly moved passed those initial first dark years. In April of 1990 I married my sweetheart. We married in the Idaho Falls LDS Temple. I asked Uncle Garth to be my witness. He carried my wedding dress in for me, accidentally dragging the bottom on the ground. The nice ladies cleaned it for me!

Time continued to move along. Uncle Garth's kids got older, married, had children, as did we. We have always spent Thanksgiving together with some or all of us at my Mom's house.

Uncle Garth started having health issues when he was thirty one with his first heart attack. He struggled through many, many surgeries over the years.

About five years ago we went on a cruise with my Mom, Aunt Ann, Uncle Garth and numerous of their friends. There are memories from that trip I will treasure in my heart forever.

One night on the cruise there was a dance party by the pool. Most of our group was sitting around the edge. I will never forget Uncle Garth going out on that dance floor and dancing with me. I love the memory in my mind of that dance!

Uncle Garth always had a twinkle in his eye. He was a big kid at heart. He had the ability to make anyone feel comfortable. Whenever I saw Uncle Garth I knew he was glad to see me, his eyes twinkled and he would say "How are ya, Sis?" and I felt loved.

Shortly after our cruise Uncle Garth's health took a drastic turn for the worse. With the years of heart problems his kidney's finally gave out. He had to begin dialysis. Three times a week for at least three hours. For four years Garth went to dialysis. He also did lots of other things. He was Mayor of St. Anthony, golfed with his boys, visited family and was the best grandpa ever. Rarely during those four years did he complain. He endured almost twenty surgeries.

Last fall things started to get more difficult. Infection in his knee made it necessary for another surgery and necessitated him going to a care facility.

Thanksgiving 2010 my Mom's kitchen was torn up. It was the first Thanksgiving in thirty years we didn't spend it together. I felt the change.

The week after Christmas Garth had more difficult news from his doctors. The infection wasn't going away and he would need immediate surgery to continue dialysis. Garth made the difficult decision to discontinue dialysis. He was tired.

I was in Idaho visiting. I had originally not been going to come because of a wedding. However, I had a feeling that I needed to go and visit with Uncle Garth. I will forever be grateful that I listened to that prompting. Dave came up quickly and we said our goodbyes. Such a strange process, talking about the funeral with Garth. Garth asked Dave to play the piano and my Mom to speak.

I remember leaving the care facility knowing it was the last time I would see Uncle Garth. I remember hugging Wyatt, Chad and Sydni, my dearest, closest cousins, knowing they were losing their Dad. I have been there. I ached for them.

In the next few days word spread and hundreds of friends and family came to visit. It was a special yet difficult time for all of them. During the next week Uncle Garth and Aunt Ann asked my Mom if she would spend the night with Garth so Ann could get some rest. Mom was the only one that Garth would ask. Those nights will always be a sacred time shared between brother and sister.

My cousin Sydni is about seven years younger than me. She has always been like a baby sister-but better--we never had to share anything! On Sunday Jan. 9, I convinced Sydni to let me drive her from Utah to Idaho. Her Dad was close to the end and she needed to be there. Those four hours were a privilege for me. I had the strongest feeling that her Dad was waiting for her to get there.

When we arrived in Rexburg, I stopped suddenly and reached out to Sydni. I knew she was so upset and agitated. I told her that I had the calmest feeling. She looked at me and said she felt it too. We went in quickly, I told Uncle Garth I loved him and went to wait for my Mom. We went in together for a moment. I will always remember my Mom tenderly hugging her baby brother and giving him a kiss and him responding to her. Their bond was so, so strong.

We left and waited for the shuttle to take me home. As soon as Chad got there Uncle Garth passed away. He waited for all his children to gather around him.

I have been very blessed to have a close family. My Mom's siblings and all their children have an unusually tight bond. We are spread out all over, lead very different lives, we rarely see each other. However, when we get together you can feel the love that we share for each other.

As we said our final goodbyes at Uncle Garth's funeral I was just amazed at how lucky we all were to have had Uncle Garth in our lives.

The older I get the more difficult these partings are becoming. I looked around at the funeral-the reality of twenty or more funerals in the next years was very real. I am one of the youngest grandchildren.

Death is so strange. It hits us and rips us open, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound. Eventually the gaping hole stops bleeding and starts to heal. However, it never really heals completely. It leaves a permanent scab. Most of the time the scab is just a reminder, we run our hand over it and remember and move on. Other times, in unexpected moments the scab gets ripped off and we are brought to our knees in our grief again.

Perhaps this process helps us become kinder, more gentle people, knowing that all these people we hold dear are all on temporary loan. Perhaps the reason we experience death is to help us actually live more fully. Perhaps death helps us to recognize who and what is important.

Family, people and relationships--they are the most important and lasting things. In the end they are all that truly matters.

February 1

February is here. We survived another January.

I can hardly believe that my life moves so quickly and I seem to move so slowly.

I haven't written about my Uncle Garth and his passing. It was almost a month ago.
I haven't written about my word/s for the year. I am still trying to convince myself it is okay to have two!

I remember having a conversation with a wise elderly man. This man had taught school for almost 40 years. We were talking about Dave's new calling as Bishop of the Young Adult Singles ward at the University. We talked about their struggles. What he said has stuck with me, I hear it sometimes in my mind.

"What young people have to realize and understand to be successful in life and marriage is that sometimes it is hard. It is sometimes hard for years. If they realize that and just keep trying they will get to the other side. It might take five years. Just keep trying."

Sometimes I wonder if we are on the five year plan.