Future Hair Stylist

It seems there is a common thread this week in our life, and it has to do with hair.

Just as Molly finally has hair long enough for a spriggy piggy, Addison decided her own hair was getting too long, and snuck away to the loft with a pair of scissors to remedy the situation.  THANKFULLY Claire caught her and quickly alerted the parents (as she refers to us).

At first I thought Claire may have been exaggerating, because she's known to do that on occasion, but unforuately this time she was being completely honest.  We found Addison with a pair of scissors and a good size pile of hair laying next to her in the loft.

The guilty party:

Note on her right side that it's cut almost all the way up to her hair line.

And cut that high almost all the way back to her ear....yikes.

She did cut some up to the bottom of her ear on this side, but it wasn't as noticeable.

Now, although I like to pretend I'm a hair expert, because I'm capable of trimming my kids hair in a straight line across the bottom, I knew this was a challenge beyond my ability.

So off we went to the salon.

The ladies were super sweet and nice to Addison.  All the stylists came over to see the "cute little 3 year old who cut her own hair." 

After a lot of thinking and getting second opinions, it was decided the only thing we could really do was cut all the hair the same length as she had cut on her left side (the less noticeable side) and turn the REALLY short pieces on her right side into bangs and hope that her curls helped blend the short parts that were just too far back to be considered bangs.

The result:

I think it turned out pretty cute.  Especially with what she gave them to work with.

And while I'm sad that we had to cut off so much of her beautiful curly hair, I'm glad they made it look good.

Once the camera was out, she turned into a giant ham and was being goofy.  

Gosh, I love this girl.

 

What was I thinking??

Even though she sure keeps things hopping, I think we'll keep her.

Spriggy Piggy

Molly has enough hair that I was able to squeak out a little spriggy piggy tail on the top of her head.

I won't lie, I used to kind of think doing these little piggy tails on the top of babies heads was a bit ridiculous.

But I think it was just the jealousy talking, because I have had such bald babies that piggy tails were never in the cards for me.

But Molly, oh sweet Molly, she was born with a sweet mohawk (or "mo-hog" as Claire calls it) and has always had long bits of hair towards the back of her head.  So on a whim, I tried to tame the hawk.

And personally, I think it's pretty dang cute!

I took about a million pictures of her today, so enjoy the photo presentation of my baby.  Who happens to look way too grown up in these.  And who also happens to be the cutest baby on the face of the planet - in my humble opinion.

(Please excuse the toothbrush...it was her toy of choice this morning and she was not about to let it go.)

Love her laugh!

Addison got in on the pictures too.

And then back to Molly

She's "talking" (a.k.a. yelling at the top of her lungs)

Made up memory: A Trip To Remember

L-R: Grandma Ridges, Ben, Me, Emily, Aspen and Mom

In the fall of 1994 we set off on a fun little camping trip with my Grandma Ridges.  (If you look in the picture above, you can see how loving Ben always was to Grandma)

Let's just say we went to...Goblin Valley...because I have no clue where we really were.

We loaded up our nice hand-me-down Suburban with our sweet CJ-7 Jeep in tow, and off we went.

As with all of our camping trips, this one did not go off without a hitch.  In the middle of nowhere, our Suburban decided it no longer wanted to go camping and blew up (or something broke down...I can't really be sure).

We were stranded.

Thankfully, we happened to be stranded at a great camping location, and so we unloaded and set up camp.  Dad took the Jeep into town (somewhere very far away) for parts he needed to repair the Suburban.  But because of past experience, we knew he'd handle it and so we wasted no time and got right to exploring.

Me, Aspen, Ben and Emily

  As we were hiking around, I somehow managed to smash my finger pretty good.  Ben (and Aspen too...but these stories are mostly about Ben, sorry Aspen) was worried that it might have been broken, and - unlike how he usually treated me - was trying to help me down from our hike to get back to camp for some first-aid from mom and Grandma (I'm sure Grandma was completely bummed that she couldn't go on our hike with us.  She always wanted to be part of the action).

Ben asked me if I could move my finger.  Through tears, I squeaked out a "No."

Emily - being a sweet younger sister - walked over to me, grabbed my finger and shook it saying, "Yes you can, see?!"

Ben (and Aspen) was horrified...but then just about fell over laughing.

Obviously my finger would survive, because Emily's violent shake hadn't ripped it off.

Dad returned from getting parts, fixed the Suburban and it was then time to explore some more.  We drove up a cool rock formation, and dad wanted to take a good photo opportunity.  Having heard somewhere that pictures are better with people in them (and the fact that there are about 15,000 pictures of the Jeep by itself) he decided he better get someone in there.

Looking around, he found the closest two victims.  Me and Ben (and our dog Gabby).  So we hopped in the picture to document a great trip.

I'm rockin' that outfit!

And honestly, even though I'm sure me and Ben fought and bickered much of the time, I can't remember any of it.  I just remember that Ben was awesome, and some day I wanted to be just like him. 

Fearless, adventurous...and secretly super nice.

Promise Me...

In the last couple years of his life, Ben became an even softer, kinder man.  He was always sweet and kind, but he became more vocal about it.  

Ben was my biggest fan at times.  And I really missed having my cheerleader in my corner this weekend. 

Whenever I would go visit Ben, he always wanted to know how me and Marty were doing.  He was always sure to tell me how proud he was of me, and how he thought I was doing such a good job with life (he was more specific...but I don't want to go into it on here).  He always pointed out that Marty and I have overcome some difficult things and that he is so proud of the hard work we have put in to be where we are now.  

Ben would also caution me, and made me promise him that I would take things slow in life.  Not to rush into things just because I was feeling antsy.  He wanted to make sure that we would not repeat any past mistakes.  

I so badly wanted to call or text him on Saturday to tell him that we moved another step closer to reaching our goals.  I knew he would be so excited for us and would be as enthusiastic as I was feeling.

I know he is still excited for me, and probably knows what's going on better than I do in my own life now.  But I just wanted to see his face, his little smirk and hear him say "I'm really proud of you."

I miss him.

I thought it would get easier as the days went on, but as of now it seems to get harder each day.

My sister, Aspen, spoke at Ben's funeral.  She read off these promises Ben wanted her to make.  We are all trying to adopt them into our lives.

-Promise me you'll spend time as a family with your children.

-Promise me you'll not let excuses get in the way of the people in your life.

-Promise me you'll take tons of pictures of your kids.

-Promise me you'll be a patient and kind mother and wife.

-Promise me you'll continue to love and include Sara.

-Promise me you'll be slow to be offended or frustrated by family members.  Allow them to feel how they want to feel.  Understand that in the coming weeks they may say things in sadness or anger that they normally wouldn't.  Forgive them for it and be patient.

-Promise me that you will never forget that you are living the dream.  Don't take for granted the fact that you have good health, that you have beautiful and healthy children and that you have a long future ahead of you.  Make good use of it.

I hope I continue to make Ben proud as he watches me from above.

Made up memory: The Beast

*Made up memory is going to become a weekly installment for a while.  It has been so fun and therapeutic.  Many of the facts in the stories are true...they aren't completely made up.*

In 1996, Ben was just about to turn 16.  As most teenage boys, he was thrilled with the prospect of getting his own car, and being able to cruise around on the hunt for chicks (or whatever teenage boys cruise around for. Tacos maybe?).

Most boys would start begging their parents for the coolest new car they could manage.  But Ben?  Not so much.  Instead, Ben began the process of buying something junky (motorcycle, three-wheeler, lawn mower), fixing it up and selling it for a profit, then buying something a step higher until at last, he acquired a car.

What once was - I'm sure - a lovely Jeep Wagoneer became this boy's new toy.  The Wagoneer was in rough shape when Ben bought it with his hard earned money.  I can't imagine he spent more than a few hundred dollars on it.

So rather than restore it to it's original glory, he went at it with a hack saw, cutting the rusted old body away, and unleashing what became known as "The Beast"!

Now, Ben was not of legal age to be driving this machine...but the machine really wasn't legal for anyone to drive, regardless of their age.  We would tow that sucker up to the mountains and Ben was free to explore and do whatever he wanted.  Can you imagine the freedom a 15 year old boy must have experienced?

Riding in The Beast was a tricky thing that should have been turned into an Olympic sporting event.  If you didn't enter or exit the vehicle just right, you ran the risk of receiving a third degree burn on the engine, or a cut from the jagged metal that would go straight to the bone.  Plus, if you weren't holding on tight (because I don't recall seatbelts...safety wasn't exactly a priority in The Beast) you could run the risk of flying out the side going around a big turn, or over a big bump.

It. Was. AWESOME!

The seats, however, were original.  The crowning glory.

I don't recall how long The Beast was at our house.  But when Ben discovered he could piece it out and sell the parts, I'm sure he quickly moved up to the next, bigger, better project.

But The Beast will live on in infamy forever.

Ben's Funeral

Funeral director, Claire, my mom, Sara and my dad.  Photo courtesy of my cousin, Stephanie.

 Yesterday (Tuesday, February 11, 2013) was Ben's funeral.  It was a very bittersweet day, to say the least. The spirit was overwhelmingly strong, and I felt Ben's arms wrap around me at one point, giving me the strength and comfort I so desperately needed which was so sweet and amazing.

But at the same time, it was incredibly difficult watching them close the casket for the last time, knowing that we would not see him again in our earthly life.

Following the casket out of the church into the hearse and then watching them lay it over his new resting place was also very, very difficult.

Words cannot express how much I will miss Ben.  It's been nearly a week since he passed away now, and it still seems so surreal.  I still expect that it was all just a dream and any moment I will hear from him, or go visit him.

The funeral definitely brought it into reality more though, and today has also been difficult.  As I've heard so many who have lost a sibling/close loved one tell me, "It doesn't really ever get easier" and I don't suspect it will.

Sara's good friend caught this candid moment of Sara saying her final goodbye to Ben, right before they closed the casket.  It just breaks my heart.  Sara is the most incredible, loving, selfless person I have ever met.  She loves Ben more deeply than I have ever seen someone love, and Ben's love for her was the same.  

To honor Ben's love of Jeeping, we had a "Jeep Procession" or "21 Jeep Salute".  So many people showed up in their Jeeps, some without their roof on, in the freezing cold weather.  Luckily, a friend took these following pictures at the cemetery so we had some documentation of it.  This is not all the Jeeps, just the few they happened to get a picture of.  It was amazing standing back and watching the Jeeps roll in.  It was a nice, loud, engine roaring entrance to the cemetery for our sweet Ben, and I know he loved every second of it.

Leading the Jeep procession was my dad, driving Ben's truck and towing Ben's scrambler that he worked so hard on.  I remember him being in so much pain, and not able to do much.  But I would go out in my dad's garage and Ben had somehow climbed up in the back of the scrambler and was slowly and meticulously laying a bed liner.  What he wouldn't do for his fun toys.

Sara is in a bagpipe band, and asked her good friend to come and play while they carried the casket to the grave site.  She also played 'Amazing Grace'...which brought many tears.

Another picture my cousin, Stephanie, captured of Sara and my mom, saying their goodbyes to a boy that deeply impacted their lives.

I know that life will go on, and we will be okay.  

But I also know it will be very hard, and we will miss him every day.

"Grief is the natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death. The only way to avoid the grief would be to not experience the love; and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning." Elder Lance B. Wickman.

I love you Ben!

Made up memory: The Game of Life

Ben was a champion at everything he tried.  Some of his top earning activities were:

-Cheating at Uno

-Building stuff

-Driving stuff

-Teasing his sisters (or was that just me?)

-Burping contests

-Dead legs

-Facial contortions 

-Using his big brown puppy dog eyes to get whatever he wanted from mom and dad...but I'm not bitter or jealous, not at all.  Just that my blue eyes never got the same reaction.  I'm just saying.

But there was one activity that he excelled far above and beyond anybody else.  

And that would be the game of Life.  

And sure, maybe he cheated like crazy, but I think he also just really lucked out.  He landed on every single good space there was, while the rest of us were stuck paying out restitution and junk throughout the board.  He always ended up being a doctor or lawyer, and we'd get the lowly teacher or NO job.  He always landed in the mansion at the end, while we were at the loony bin (or whatever the end was).

And it seems so incredibly fitting now, because he has landed in the ultimate mansion on high after going through his own game of 'Life' perfectly...and here we are, left behind in the 'loony bin', looking up at that mansion wishing we could be with him.

But we've still got more 'Life' to play, and this time - by golly - we're going to JOIN him in that mansion at the end!

'Til We Meet Again...

Absolute Freedom

Today, the world feels a little bit sadder.  The world has said goodbye to an incredible man.

Ben's spirit has returned to Heaven, leaving his cancer invaded body behind.  A body that has held him prisoner for the last two years, and, I'm sure, caused him more than a little frustration.

While I am incredibly sad, and the grief is hard, I am happy for Ben.  Happy that he is free of his suffering.  I imagine he is running, jumping, taking deep breaths, hugging people, and laughing.  All things he hasn't been able to do for quite a while.

I think of his amazing wife, Sara, who sat by his side through so many horrible moments and never wavered. Always a constant caregiver, she is a true example of unconditional and Christlike love.  I will forever be grateful for her loving my brother, and for being a wonderful example to everyone around her.

Ben will be missed beyond words.  Him passing away leaves an enormous gap in my heart that will never be filled.  But I know I will see him again.

God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again.

Made up memory: The Kaiser

I hope that everyone will bear with me as I continue posting about Ben.  It just seems to feel therapeutic in a way.  As I mentioned in the previous blog post, I do not have a good memory, and I HATE that looking back at pictures, I can't really remember what exactly was going on.

But what I lack in memory, I can make up for with imagination.  So, I have this picture that I decided to make up my own memory about.  I am also going to be posting a lot of pictures and "made up memories" for a while, because I love looking at the happy times with Ben.

To begin, however, you must understand something.  Me and Ben didn't always have the most hunky dory relationship growing up.  We were the two middle kids with really strong personalities on either side of us in birth order.  I think this lead to us just not getting along.  We loved each other, sure, but didn't always exactly like each other.  That brings me to my first "Made up memory".

"The Kaiser"

Back in 1997, my dad drove to California for a business trip.  In a moment that was so unusual for our parents, they decided the rest of the family would fly out there to meet him and go to Disneyland!  Here I was...13 years old and about to go to Disneyland for the first time.

It really was magical.  And we had a wonderful time.

After our wonderful Disney vacation, it was time to hit the road and drive back home to Utah as a family.  We were no strangers to long road trips, having a lot of family in Arizona, and we knew what to expect.

We knew that I would get car sick and people would have to move around to accommodate me being in the middle with cold air blowing on my face, that we would stop along the way to see and do things, and that we would play games, laugh...and possibly fight...but that's beside the point.

Somewhere along the way, my dad spotted a Kaiser truck!  It was in great condition, and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to take a closer look.  I was grateful for the opportunity to stop, as I was *this close* to losing my lunch in a Disneyland popcorn bucket.

We pulled off to the side, and I imagine the following occurred:

Dad:  Guys, look at that awesome Kaiser!  We have to go look!
Ben:  Yeah, that's sweet!
Camille:  Yes, get me out of this car!  I don't even care WHAT a Kaiser is, as long as it means I can escape this metal vomit trap!

*We pull over and exit the car*

Dad:  Hey, Camille and Ben, stand there so I can get a picture of you guys.
Camille:  Seriously?  I am on the verge of throwing up and you want a picture...of me...with a Kaiser...and Ben?
Dad:  Yeah, it'll be a good memory!
Ben:  You seriously want me to stand in a picture with pukey over here?  Why does she have to be in the picture and ruin the beautiful opportunity to have me with a Kaiser?
Dad:  Just do it!

So, we obliged.  We couldn't be bothered to actually smile, that would be asking too much.  But we did as dad asked, and thanks to that, we have the lovely picture above.  And my dad was right...it does make a good memory, and I'm glad we have the picture.

Walk Down Memory Lane

Things have been very tender and emotional for me as of late.  As we continue to watch our sweet Ben slowly coming to the end of his life, it is just hard.  We are praying that he will be released quickly, and are just trying to trust in the will of the Lord, but some days that is really hard.

I could talk about how incredibly difficult it is to go see Ben in his current state, to see him suffering.  But it is so, deeply painful that the image makes me feel like I've been kicked in the stomach and I can't quite catch my breath.

I made the mistake today of sitting down to play the piano for some "therapy".  (Piano - for me - is the best therapist around).  The problem was that I found myself playing hymn arrangements, and pretty soon came to a medley of "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again" and "He is Risen".  Needless to say I cried all the way through...I really should have skipped it, but I just couldn't.  As I imagine seeing Ben again "at Jesus' feet", without the affliction of his earthly prison of a body, it both makes me happy for him, and very sad for myself.  We are ready to say goodbye, because we are ready to see him free of his pain.  But at the same time, I can't really quite come to grips with the heaviness of not having him around for the rest of my earthly life, or my kids not getting to really know him.

So, I wanted to think about some good times we've had, so excuse my little walk down memory lane.  I am, unfortunately, cursed with a really bad memory.  But these are a few things I do remember.

• Ben taught me how to dump out a cereal box into a giant mixing bowl in order to find the prize at the bottom, and then get the cereal back into the bag without mom ever knowing.
• Ben gave me my first piercing when we were on a family fishing trip.  He went to cast his line and instead, caught my earlobe.  The hook went straight through.  He ran off into the woods while my dad worked to get the hook out (I was 5, he would have been about 8).  At the time I thought he was just mean until later down the road Aspen told me he had gone off to the woods because he felt so bad.
• Ben, having 3 sisters, would try to play Barbies with us by using his constructs to build wagons.  We always played pioneers with the Barbies so he could play the horses and "Kenny" and be the wagon builder.
• Ben was always asking for and bringing home animals.  We had fish, salamanders, frogs, guinea pigs (which had babies) rats, mice, hamsters, gerbils, parakeets, dogs and cats.  Somehow he ALWAYS knew of someone who had puppies or kittens and was able to get mom and dad to let us have one.  He also somehow made friends with neighbors who had horses and we were able to go riding a lot because of him.  One time we caught a snake out in the back yard and Ben wanted to give it something to eat.  So we went to the garden center that also sold small animals to buy a mouse.  He convinced me to use my money to buy a little white mouse for the snake to eat.  We put the mouse in the box with the snake and waited.  Nothing happened.  I quickly grew upset and no longer wanted the mouse to be the snake's food.  Ben agreed and we ended up keeping the mouse as a pet and letting the snake go.
• There was always an adventure to be had with Ben around.  We were always hiking to Turtle Rock, the waterfall or salamander pond.  I remember he started building a tree house in the mountains and let us tag along with him.  I'm sure we annoyed him, but we thought it was so awesome that our brother was so "resourceful".
• He also always had something with a motor he was fixing or building.  It started out small with little motorcycles, go-carts and three-wheelers.  But pretty soon he was building Jeeps and cars with my dad.  I remember how incredibly awesome and proud I felt driving around in his big Bronco with him.
• One time we were on a family vacation in Moab, and for some reason Ben and I were going to head home the night before the rest of the family.  I can't remember why, but I was supposed to ride with him to keep him awake.  I remember trying SO HARD to stay awake.  The next thing I knew, I woke up and we had been driving for a good hour or more.  Ben just laughed at me and told me I wasn't doing such a good job at keeping him company. 

There are so many more memories....but it really boils down to this:  Life with Ben has been great.  I will miss him more than words could ever convey.  But I know he will be okay, and we will be okay.  And I know that someday, I will get to see him again "At Jesus' Feet".