Sometimes Brent and I will be going through life when
something reminds us of our awful experience.
I think about the mounting stress we went through and the panic starts
to rise inside of me, like post-traumatic stress disorder only not as severe as
someone who has gone to war. My heart
starts to race and my chest tightens, then I force myself to think of something
else, anything else. We’ve learned it’s
important to address these things and not burry them away so we talk for a bit,
remember what we’ve been through, and then share with each other our gratitude
of how things have changed for us. Healing
still needs to happen and one of the ways it happens for me is writing it out
on these blogs. The other week when we
were driving up to St George to see a Tuacahn play with my parents, memories of
the drive from Denver to Las Vegas came pouring in. As we were talking about it Brent said, “I
don’t know how I physically did it knowing the mental state I was in. How did I drive that moving van all by myself
with all that wind, over mountain passes and in the dark after everything we
had been through?” Then I thought about our move. It was the great crescendo after a string of
difficult times; Colorado’s last kick in the pants.
One of the things I have grown to greatly dislike is when I
am surviving a difficult trial and someone with good intentions tries to
minimize what I am experiencing by saying, “At least you aren’t going through
what the pioneers went through”. When
did that ever become the right thing to say?
How can you even compare my life to theirs? Everything is different, there is no way to
really even put the two experiences side by side. I have pioneer ancestors that were driven out
of Nauvoo and Brent has pioneer ancestors that came across the plains in both
the Willy and Martin handcart companies.
There is no way for me to understand their pain and suffering they
experienced, but likewise there is no way to compare it to what I am currently
going through in this day and age. The
one thing I can almost guaranty is they suffered and struggled and almost lost
the strength and the will, but sometimes putting one foot in front of the other
and moving forward against impossible odds is the only choice there is. That is one thing I can relate to, putting
one foot in front of the other and clinging to your faith like it is an
unraveling thread because there are no other options. That is often when heaven finally intervenes
on your behalf.
One of my favorite church history story’s is when a man that
was in the handcart companies stood in a Sunday School class years later and
bore witness to what he experienced.
This is a portion of the account that was given:
“Not one of that company ever
apostatized or left the Church, because everyone of us came through with the
absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our
extremities.”
“I
have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of
food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead
and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, I can go only that
far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it.” He
continues: “I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began
pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but
my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.”
“Was
I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my
life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege
to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the
Martin Handcart Company.’” (Relief Society Magazine, Jan. 1948, p.
8.)
I may feel it is out of context to compare my life to the
pioneers’ lives because it is like comparing apples and oranges. But, it does not lessen the absolute love,
respect and appreciation I have for their experience. And no, you cannot compare what I am about to
share with you with anything they experienced or anything you’ve experience. What you can take away from my experience is that
God in all his glory allows us to suffer and experience life’s sorrows, but he
also offers us help and the Savior’s atonement.
You may know by now from my previous posts some of what we
experienced in Colorado. Leading up to
our move to Las Vegas it didn’t feel like we were ever going to leave our
suffering or move on from our sorrows and I honestly didn’t think it could get
any worse, and then it did.
I never felt as alone as I did during the weeks leading up
to Brent’s job offer. I had gotten close
to losing my baby during his birth, had literally seen his heart rate almost
turn to zero. I had hemorrhaged, was in
danger of losing my own life and had a C-section to save us both. Nothing could have prepared me for how awful
recovering from a C-section was. I
remember Dr. Lamb very sternly telling me that for the next six weeks I was not
to do anything but take care of the baby, that it was my turn to be taken care
of and that it was very important in order for me to heal. That didn’t even
come close to happening. Brent had no
other choice but to be gone looking for employment. January and February are the times most law
firms hire and it was a small window of time for Brent to get work and we could
not afford his attention to be put anywhere else. He was gone most of the day applying for jobs
and talking to contacts. When he was
home he was often preoccupied with how he would get employment. My parents had sold their home and were
literally packing up and leaving for Utah at that time as well.
We had moved out of their home six months prior and moved
into a friend’s basement when it was offered to us because of the stress we
were putting on my parents. They were
trying to sell their house at the time and we sincerely thought we would only
have to stay in our friend’s basement for a month or so. We were not prepared to be there for six
months. Both Brent and I were mortified
that we were still in their basement and Brent was still out of work. They were amazing for letting us stay as long
as they did and helped us so much. When
Ethan was a couple of weeks old my friend came down with pneumonia. She was also expecting a baby and I felt
awful for her and wanted to do more to help her. But I was still recovering from my surgery
and after almost loosing Ethan during his birth my mommy protective instincts
went into full force and I was constantly petrified that he would also get sick
at such a vulnerable age. Unfortunately
I couldn’t be there for my friend in her time of need like she had been there
for me. I tried to do little
things. I even shoveled their driveway
once even though I was not supposed to lift anything but it wasn’t enough to
get rid of the mounting guilt I felt over the whole situation.
Brent got the job offer we so desperately needed in Las
Vegas. He left three days later and like
I wrote in a previous post I basically feel apart. I had to pack up what we had in our friend’s
basement on my own with a nursing baby and two young kids and everything felt
like it was one step forward then two steps back. I could barely stay calm and civil. I had to constantly fight my instincts to go
bat crazy on my kids for just being kids.
Children innocently have the ability of taking a situation and making it
a hundred times more difficult just by being children. The more children you have involved the more
complicated the situation becomes and I was consumed by it. It was like drowning slowly, I could not get
my head above water.
Brent flew back three weeks later so we could move the next
day. The plan was we would hire a moving
company to pack up our stuff and drive it to Las Vegas. I had spoken with a
sales person at a moving company and he had quoted that it would cost about
$1300. We planned to pay for it with our
tax return and I had to put down a $550 deposit. I thought it was a great deal and a blessing……….little
did I know. Most of the stuff we had in our friend’s
basement was our children’s things and baby stuff but you know how much space
that can take up then we would have the drivers go over to our storage unit and
pack that up. Since I was nursing Ethan
and driving long distances had been difficult with our kids in the past I
really wanted Brent to drive. We stayed
up until 2 am to finish packing and woke up at 6 am so we could be ready for
the packers. When Abby woke up she had a
high fever and was very sick. Then when
the packers showed up at 8 am all the despair I had been feeling from all the
stress reached a whole new level. The
movers looked baffled and told me the $1300 wouldn’t even cover what we had in
the basement and wanted to look at our storage unit before they packed
anything. They looked at our storage
unit and the new estimate was in……..$5,000.00.
I had a full on panic attack and started screaming at them that they had
to give us our $550 dollars back so we could rent a U-Haul. They told me it was nonrefundable and I
started screaming that I had been lied to by their sales person. Suddenly Brent and I switched rolls and he
was the level headed, calm, problem solving one and went into full gear renting
a truck and calling the missionaries to come help us move. Thank goodness we had three sets of
missionaries in our ward at the time.
Our plans completely changed and suddenly we were no longer
leaving at 9 am to drive to Las Vegas.
We had a friend we actually knew from when we lived in Las Vegas before and currently lives in Colorado answer our
call for help on FB. Even though he
lived 20 minutes away he showed up and helped at the storage unit as well as
the six missionaries helping to pack us up.
My kids were in the car most the time because Abby was battling a 103
degree fever. Half way through the
packing I wondered about taking her to the doctor because she had a severe
cough. Ethan was sleeping a lot because
he had gotten his vaccines the day before but I had to stop packing a few times
for about 45 minutes to an hour to nurse him throughout the day. We filled up the truck and had to rent an
additional trailer for the stuff we still had in our friend’s basement. After the storage unit we had to carry all our
stuff up a hill from the basement to the truck so even though it was half the
amount of stuff it took twice as long.
Finally at 4:00 pm the last item had been packed and then I heard a
blood curdling scream. Parker had put
his hand on the back of the truck at the same time someone was slamming the
metal door to the truck shut. When I saw
his hand it looked broken and I wondered if we should even leave with Abby sick
and Parker’s hand severely hurt. Ethan
also absolutely hated his car seat and would scream hysterically every time he
was buckled in. I was beyond the point
of being overwhelmed.
I held it together
long enough to say a quick good bye to my friend and her kids but as soon as I
got myself and my kids in the car and saw Brent pull away in the moving van I
started to violently sob. My poor
children; I’m so glad they were fairly young during this time in our lives and
forgave easily because both Brent and I were a complete mess during the entire
six months but most especially the last couple months. I sat there barely able to breathe, knowing
there were winding roads and mountain peaks both Brent and I would have to
drive. Brent was in a moving van with a
trailer and I would have to drive with the kids stopping every few hours to
nurse. Knowing I would be driving in the
dark after the day we had was almost more than I could handle. I had lived in those Rocky Mountains and I
knew they were a force to be reckoned with.
Not only that but all three of my children were not doing well. It was at this point that I remembered a
blessing I had received just before Brent had been offered a job.
I remembered being told that during this time of difficulty
I would have the company of angels and that I would especially have the company
of my brother. I was also told in the
blessing that the Lord saw the sacrifices I had encountered and been called
upon to face as equal to what the pioneers had faced. I
turned to my kids and told them to be reverent for a very special prayer. I prayed earnestly that Heaven would come to
our aid, that even though we were blessed with vehicles we still had a long and
dangerous journey ahead of us and I asked that all of us would have angels to
help us and accompany us like the pioneers did on their journey. I told Heavenly Father that I was too weak,
both spiritually and emotionally, and I needed Heaven to come to my aid.
We jumped on the E-470 that turned into the C-470 then came
to a complete stop. There had been an
accident on C-470 during rush hour and we ended up spending almost two hours in
it before getting off at the mouth of the canyon leading into the Rocky
Mountains. I hadn’t even left Denver yet
before I had to stop and nurse my baby; we were just starting our journey at 7 pm
at night. I drove up the ramp heading
onto the I-70, my kids were listening to the Frozen sound track and then I felt
it. Heaven came and Cordell was
there. It was like a butterfly landing
on my hand. I was scared to make any
sudden moves I didn’t want him to fly away.
I’m not sure if it was just Cordell or if each one of my children had
someone there to help them but they were calm and the best behaved they had
ever been. Ethan slept the whole way,
Parker’s hand was doing much better and Abby’s fever lessoned and she wasn’t as
sick. I kept quietly talking to Cordell
and begging him not to leave. I can
count the times I’ve felt him in my life since he passed on one hand and I was
worried he would leave. The kids asked
me if they could keep listening to Frozen over and over. I joke that I must have heard, “let it go”
200 times on that trip. For whatever
reason it brought them comfort and I was able to handle it without getting
tired of listening to it. I thought it
was a little prophetic for our situation hearing, “Let it go, let it go” over
and over again as we crossed the Rocky Mountains and state I had loved so
much. I also desperately wanted to let
go of the pain and the anguish and with Cordell supporting me it was somewhat
of a start.
We got to Fruita, Colorado late and stayed in a hotel
there. Because Brent had to go so slow I
would pass him and get pretty far ahead then I would have to stop and nurse the
baby and he would pass me. He made it to
the hotel before me and got a room then when I got there we carried the
sleeping children up. Somehow I managed
to wake up early even though I was exhausted.
Brent left an hour before we did so I could get the kids breakfast and
let them eat it as we started out again on our journey and there he was
again. Cordell had come again and even
though he was there I was totally on edge.
It was March and the wind was blowing through the canyon like a
hurricane. At one point I caught up to
Brent and saw the truck and trailer struggle to stay upright under the force of
the wind. Everything about the drive was
intense and difficult but we were not alone and we felt peace. I was sure that
Brent was receiving the same heavenly help that I was. A half an hour outside of Las Vegas, out in
that barren dessert, I felt Cordell leave, like a butterfly that takes off
because it has somewhere else to go. I
cherish the time I got to spend with him and was so grateful my big brother
came to take care of his little sister one more time. I can’t tell you how much I still miss him,
all these years later.
We got to our town house an hour before the management
closed on a Saturday and then realized we never had the utilities turned on and
would have to wait. I was moving into my
old roommate’s ward and she had managed to scramble a few guys together at the
last moment and our family that lives in Las Vegas showed up. Brent and I were spent down to the last part
of us and we still had to unpack. Brent
looked beat up and exhausted and we didn’t see any way that we would be able to
stay in our house that night without utilities or go to church in the
morning. The elder’s quorum president seemed
especially concerned and didn’t want to leave us. We were obviously a disaster that had plopped
ourselves into Las Vegas and into his ward. He left for a while and came back
with a few flashlights and camping lamps and told us if we needed his help the
next day even though it was Sunday not to hesitate to call him. I remember him telling us if we at least needed
help with setting beds up before it got dark the next day to please call him. Even though it was the Sabbath we felt we had
no choice but to collect ourselves instead of going to church the next day. We couldn't even attempt to find church clothes
in the chaos. Brent’s sister Stephanie
let us come and stay at her house and sleep in their beds. It was marvelous; we even got a quick shower.
The next day we desperately tried to get organized but
between the kids, a new born and not knowing where anything was I reached a
point that I felt we had no other choice but to call Shawn, our elder’s quorum
president and ask him for help setting up the beds. He seemed relieved that we had called and
promised he would be over as soon as he was home from church. He came in and an hour later he had not only
set up our beds before dark he had helped us to organize the boxes and
furniture so we could maneuver around the house. It was one of the most Christ-like acts I
have witnessed in my life. Not once did he judge us
or make us feel that we had no right to interrupt his Sabbath but he helped a
suffering family with a pure and serving heart, only concerned for our welfare.
The next day a couple of miracles happened and we got both
our electricity and our gas turned on. I've heard horror stories since this experience that a number of people have gone weeks without gas in the Vegas area so it was a great blessing.
There was also an investigation done with the moving company and they
eventually returned our nonrefundable down payment. It took a full month to get the house
organized and another month to get the garage to a point of parking both our
cars in it. Things weren’t immediately
better. In fact it took months upon
months and things even got a little worse again before they got better. But, eighteen months later, we are finally, slowly
but surely seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I will never forget the help we received
during that time from angels both on this side of the vail and the other. As I have written this story I can see the
miracles intertwined with the sorrows and I am truly grateful for the
opportunities that have helped me to become acquainted with God.
