Our Bed

Brian has been working very hard on our new bed. He finally got it done and we set it up last night. It looks beautiful! I love the black! It is funny how something as simple as a bed reminds me of Luke. Luke left a wonderful gift in the last bed we had (for a refresher, look up April 2010-The Toothbrush) and I was so hoping to find something when we moved the mattress last night. But. . . no. . . just memories. I miss him more than the pitiful words we have in the English language can describe. Every word or phrase is inadequate to describe how much I want him back. Brian asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I decided I want the ability to manipulate time. . . so I could go back. . . or speed up the years, so we can be with him sooner. Do you think Santa can deliver that?

Happy Heavenly 3rd Birthday, Luke

It is a tradition in our family, that on the boys' birthdays, I recite to them the day of their birth--what happened, how we felt, etc. So, to keep with that tradition I shall retell Luke's story to you, for he is not here to hear it himself.

On November 30, 2007, I was partly in charge of the Annual Adult Christmas Party for our ward. I was very pregnant, but wasn't due until December 23rd, so I helped in the kitchen, made sure the program was ready and went on. The night was crazy and I was running around a lot! We got done cleaning up after the party was over, around 9:30 P.M. Not bad, I thought. Brian and I went home to an empty house because Tina decided to let our boys sleep over at her house. I was so tired that I went to bed shortly after we got home. I was having some contractions, but I didn't think much about them. At 1:30 A.M., I started timing them. By 4 o'clock they were three minutes apart and I woke up Brian. And we zoomed to the hospital. I shall fast forward here so as not to bore you. . . . still fast forwarding. . . . wait for it. . . okay, long story short, after 14 HOURS of labor, Luke finally arrived. He was posterior and they tried to turn him 4 times to come out correctly, but he decided to come out the way he wanted to. He was 6 lbs. 6 oz. and 21 inches long. Luke Hulet Taylor had finally arrived in our family on December 1, 2007.




Luke only got to experience one earthly birthday. But it was a big bash. I hosted Thanksgiving in 2008 and decided to tack Luke's 1st Birthday onto the festivities. My entire family and some of Brian's was here to witness this great occasion. Now, as I think back, I am grateful to have had that to share with my family.




Turning over the calendar to December, seeing Luke's Birthday typed right there, and not having him here is indescribable. I thought the more time that passed, the better this would be. Not so. Time has torn his memories from me. I forget a little more every day, and it is unbearable not being able to remember him-what he sounded like, what he smelled like. What I wouldn't give. . . to be with him for this day.






We love you Lukey and wish you a Happy Heavenly 3rd Birthday!

Luke's Angel Day

On the 1st anniversary of Luke's passing, we decided to have a balloon release. It was a good thing. It was a hard thing. We thank ALL of you who were there with us in person and ALL of you who were there in spirit. I know there were several groups of people who had their own balloon release because they were unable to go to Idaho Falls. We felt your love and continue to feel it. Thank You ALL! We felt so much peace that day; the knowledge that we have that we KNOW we will see Luke again continues to give us strength. We LOVE you ALL. . . you help us more than you will ever know!

Impossible

What is the HARDEST thing you have ever had to do?

One year ago today, the IMPOSSIBLE happened to me, to Brian, to my family. One year. . . 365 days; 8760 hours; 525,600 minutes; 31,536,000 seconds; 36,792,000 broken heart beats.

I replay the day in my mind, trying to make sense of it. I remember asking the paramedic driving the ambulance "Do these ever turn out okay?" I will never forget his answer, or the look on his face. . . "no, I'm sorry". But that's impossible. He was just learning to talk and he just learned to crawl out of his crib. He is a great fisherman, and loves to tease his brothers. He watches Elmo everyday, and helps me do dishes. He loves to be cuddled, and suck his thumb, and hold his blanket. He makes us laugh and love and be better.

It is impossible that he is no longer here. . . .




Luke,

We will MISS you for a TIME, and CHERISH you for ETERNITY.

We love you son, brother, and angel!

Just Keep Swimming

Today is one of those days where, I, like Dory, must just keep swimming. To say the least, life is difficult right now and wanting to do anything is hard. But, Josh came up with a great idea. He decided that we should carve pumpkins for Luke and go put them by his tree, our new tradition. So, tonight for FHE, that is what we did. Brian and I were doing well keeping our heads just above water. . . helping the boys carve their pumpkins. But. . . when we got to Luke's tree. . . we could no longer hold our heads above the water. Floods of emotions came. . . drowning us.

But, that is what we will bear, those precious painful memories, because we love him. And we will kick, with all our might, to reach the surface again. . . to endure, because we love him.

Because, this is the face that I want to see for eternity. . . .

The Luke Box

Shortly after Luke passed, Brian and Nathan decided that they wanted to make a chest just for Luke. . . somewhere we could put Luke's things that we wanted to keep. They worked months and months on it, pouring their blood, sweat, and tears (lots of those) into it. It is finally finished. It is a beautiful chest. I wish we didn't need it.

Shattered

I have a bit of a personal confession to make. . . on the day Luke past, my faith was shattered. Kind of like a window one shuts to hard or a door that is slammed, there are large shards of glass still intact, or pieces still affixed tightly to the frame, clinging to life. But, there are those pieces that break into a million pieces that, at the time, seemed gone, never be recovered.

I have to teach a lesson in Relief Society in a few weeks on faith in Jesus Christ. I have been contemplating how I would teach this lesson when my faith is so broken. Last night, I decided to study the lesson and read through it. It said the same things I knew and have heard my whole life. That, if one has sufficient faith, a miracle will follow. THAT is the principle I have struggled with the most since Luke's death. Because I prayed, I had faith, and he was not healed. Why? Was my faith not sufficient enough? What about the times when prayers are not answered with the miracle? I set out to find the answer. I got out books written by prophets, specifically I read a book by Thomas S. Monson, written when he was an apostle, about faith preceding miracles. He recounted story after story of people who had faith and prayed and were healed, or saw their crops grow, or miraculously food had come to those who had none. All because of FAITH. And so my question went unanswered. Until this morning.

I woke up at 6 o'clock. There was no reason for me to be awake, but I could not go back to sleep. My mind drifted back to this principle of faith and miracles and again, I thought, how am I going to teach this. Then the thought (I believe revelation) came to me that maybe there was a miracle, just not the one you wanted. I searched my heart for the miracles that have come since that day. . . like the miracle of eternal families; the miracle of love between Brian and I, that our marriage is intact and is strengthened because of this trial; or that of a family in our ward, who decided that they needed to be sealed as a family because of this experience.

The next thought I had was about a prayer. A prayer that was said with much faith, and that didn't turn out the way the prayer giver had wanted it to. It is the prayer that Christ offered in the Garden of Gethsemane "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." (Matt. 26:39). Did you know that he prayed that same prayer three times? He pleaded with His father to help him, to take away this horrible pain. But Christ added something that I did not to His prayer, "not as I will, but as Thou wilt." And so I do it now. . . "as Thou wilt".

And then the Father answered His prayer the only way He could. And Heavenly Father answered mine the only way He could.

And ever so carefully, my shattered faith, is slowly, line upon line and precept on precept becoming whole again.