Talking With Aubren: Randi and Cody Babysit

Previous installments:

• Theater Class
• Gymnastics Camp
• Swimming Lessons
  

Saturday Afternoon Fun

Aubren's Christmas Program

Jubilee Junction's Christmas Show, 2010

Christmas Parade, Richardson, 2010

Stacy was out of town this weekend, so the girls and I walked up to meet the Roberts family at Kel's for an early breakfast. It was especially convenient because we then just set up out front with the best seats for the Richardson Christmas parade, where our friends the Robertsons and Atheys joined us. We sat adjacent to the Judging/Broadcast stop, so all of the bands and floats put on their best show for us.

Season's Greetings, Y'all

Talking With Aubren: Theater Class

Previous installments:

• Gymnastics Camp
• Swimming Lessons
  

CAUTION: BLOGGER AT WORK

Carving Pumpkins

Tonight we carved pumpkins with some of our neighbors and Aubren really enjoyed herself . She drew the face design and Trey carved it while she stood by and encouraged him. She was definitely proud of the finished product.


Two funny things happened this evening. We were having a conversation about how different our kids are in regards to their coordination skills. Trey and I joke about how if there is a chance that Aubren can hurt herself she will. The kid had two broken bones and a concussion before she turned three! Not long after our discussion, Aubren ran - at full speed - smack into the closed screen door. She bounced off like a trampoline and landed on her back on the patio. I tried hard not to laugh while she was crying, but it was hilarious!

Then, Milia, digging in the cooler to get ice, reached a little too far and fell in. Her legs were just sticking out while her top half was buried in ice - again, I tried not to laugh too much before yanking her out!

a month of photos

milia loves to be outside!

our nightly routine of snuggling!

milia enjoying a treat at the State Fair of Texas

aubren is so good at posing for trey. she was actually very happy at this moment!

she is liking my new curlers

waiting for mommy to get a bandaid

as soon as milia saw aubren crying she bent down and tried to console her

Memorial Video

My family, along with many of our friends, had a sweet time celebrating my father this past Saturday. Since he couldn't be there with us, our friend Jim Reynolds put together this wonderful video for the service that captures the love of my family well. Thank you, Jim!

Memorial Service

Timothy J. Wright

January 15th, 1955 - September 18th, 2010

Memorial and Celebration Service

Saturday, September 25th @10am
Grace Community Church
801 West Bardin Road
Arlington, TX 76017

In lieu of flowers the family suggests donations can be made to the following organizations:

Pioneer Bible Translators: http://www.pioneerbible.org
Dad served as the chaplain for the missionaries serving in the West Guinea Africa region.

Arlington Answers: http://arlingtonanswers.com
Dad started this ministry in 2008 and it was his passion.

Grace Community Church: http://www.gracearlington.com
Dad served as a pastor for the last 16 years.

Please make donations payable to the organization of your choice and mail to Grace Community Church for distribution. The mailing address is 801 W. Bardin Road, Arlington, Texas 76017.

Saturday, September 18th

There once was an Indian maid,
A shy little prairie maid,
Who sang a lay, a love song gay,

As on the plain she'd while away the day;
She loved a warrior bold,
This shy little maid of old,
But brave and gay, he rode one day To battle far away.

Now, the moon shines tonight on pretty Red Wing
The breeze is sighing, the night bird's crying,
For afar 'neath his star her brave is sleeping,
While Red Wing's weeping her heart away.

She watched for him day and night,
She kept all the campfires bright,
And under the sky, each night she would lie,
And dream about his coming by and by;

But when all the braves returned,
The heart of Red Wing yearned,
For far, far away, her warrior gay,
Fell bravely in the fray.

My precious father passed away at 2:45pm on September 18th, 2010.

A nurse dropped by in the morning to check on him. His breathing was rapid; to him, it probably felt as though he were hyperventilating. So, we gave him a small dose of morphine to help slow his breathing.

Over the next few hours we noticed his breathing began to slow dramatically. My mom, sister, sister in law, and I began to sing to him: Amazing Grace, The Old Rugged Cross, His Love, and one of his favorites, Red Wing. His breathing continued to slow, and I felt my heart skip a beat every time a second was added between breaths. My mom began to pray, releasing him to the Lord.

I watched his chest and face with every breath - his body was trying so hard to continue living. The time between breaths continued to lengthen. Then my mom bent down, kissed him, called him her "precious one." Two breaths later he was gone.

Daddy's last moments were perfect. He was surrounded by his wife, sons and daughters. I hope he heard our voices, felt our hands in his, and felt our love.

We desperately love you daddy! We will miss you every moment of every day, but we will live our lives in anticipation of seeing you again!

Friday, September 17th

Daddy is still with us.

This process continues to be a huge emotional roller coaster for all of us. Last Sunday, when he started breathing irregularly, I thought it was the end; but then we were told he could live up to ten more days. Now, 5 days later - 4 days without water - he has begun what is known as the death rattle. I again, believed it was the end. But the nurses say that they have seen patients go for many days with this cough.

My emotions are all over the place. I have wanted this part of our journey to end, so I find myself discouraged at the uncertainty. But then I begin to reminisce over the last five days. I think about how much I have enjoyed this time with my mom, sister, and father. And so I find peace when the nurse says to me, "your father is comfortable, he is surrounded by his loved ones, and he is not ready to leave." It reminds me that I have no control and I need to, moment by moment, relish the time with my dad.

I was talking to one of my parent's sweet friends, who has walked this path before, and she asked me if I had said goodbye. I realized I hadn't - I have spent my time loving on him, but have not spoken to him about the finality of this process. Our friend believes that sometimes those dying have unfinished business or need some sort of closure before they can let go. So tonight I said my goodbye.

I reminded him of wonderful memories. I told him how much I love him and will miss him. I talked to him about the love that Trey and I have for one another, and how we would be a support for each other. I told him that we would love our children and raise them in way that would make him proud. His desire for me has always been to go farther than he ever did - relationally and spiritually - and I promised him that I would. I sang "Amazing Grace" to him and also "Butterfly Kisses", the song he used to sing to me and the one we danced to at my wedding. I told him his legacy would live on through his grandchildren and their children. I finished by giving him kisses. It was difficult to not receive them in return, but I believe in my heart he felt them.

I've been worried of how to delicately handle this situation with Aubren; I want to give her a sense of closure, but have been unsure how to do it without traumatizing her. I did not want her to just come over here and him be gone; but, I also haven't known how to approach the subject of his impending death.

She is a smart little girl, though, and she senses and knows that something is wrong. So this morning, before she and Trey came over to see me, he asked if she had any question about PaPa. She paused for a moment then simply asked, "does cancer make you die?" When I heard this I thought, "well, there is her closure."

They spoke about what death is, what will happen to her PaPa, and where his spirit will live on forever. After this conversation she came over, and with a sweet and compassionate heart she told her PaPa goodbye. Then she walked out, blowing him kisses for the last time.

I believe the end is near. My mother is stroking my father's head and praying over him. She is speaking words of comfort to her precious one, her beloved.

We have tried to make him as comfortable as we can. It is so difficult to have no control and to know there is nothing we can do to help him.

I am scared and nervous. I have no idea what to expect. I want to run out of the room, but I will not leave my father. I will sit here, cry, hold his hand, and treasure my final moments with him.

Midnight Again

People have been coming and going today. I have been blessed by those who have come to support us - since last Friday we have been surrounded by my sister and parent's "extended family." But tonight was a special treat: seeing some of my dear friends from home.

I have been blessed by so many who have loved me by loving my children while I am away. My sisters in law have been such sweet aunties to their nieces, my friends have carted Aubren around Richardson, and my wonderful mother in law has been a step-mom for our sweet Milia.

What a privilege and honor it has been to be with my Dad in his last days. I am incredibly thankful to all who have loved on my little ones this week. Your sacrifice has given me the opportunity to simply be present with him, and for that my heart is thankful!

Thursday, September 16th

Dad made it through another night and awoke for a few minutes this morning. Our times together are getting shorter. He can no longer move, and can barely open his eyes, so when we make eye contact we have to find a place to sit where he can see us.

Kate got her hair cut yesterday and she looks beautiful. She wanted to get it cut so that PaPa could see it before he passes. She was very proud to show it to him this morning; she is such a tender-hearted, kind young woman. Her haircut makes her look older, and as I look at her I think about how proud my dad is to have such a lovely granddaughter. I think about how much he desires to watch her grow into her own.

Kaitlyn, you have always been your PaPa's sweet Katie-Kate. He desperately loves you and would be so proud of how you have grown through this process. You will always be special to him. You have a unique perspective into your PaPa's life - you have known him the longest, and will hold on to more memories than your sister or little cousins. I hope you will continue to re-live your memories with them as they get older, and will help them remember the wonderful man they call PaPa.

I just spent the last five minutes looking deeply into my dad's eyes. I remember being a little uncomfortable, at first, looking directly at him because he seemed different. But now I embrace these quiet moments between the two of us. I look forward to them and I treasure them.

Daddy has seemed more peaceful these last few days. I am thankful that he has no pain and that he is able to live his last days at his home with his family. It is as it should be.

Midnight

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

It is midnight and I cannot sleep. The time for my dad is drawing nearer every moment. He no longer moves. He has not taken food or water for days. He sleeps most of the time; when he wakes it is usually for just a fleeting moment. As quickly as his eyes opens, they seem to close again.

I weep as I sit with him. I cannot imagine life without my father, and since I know my precious time is short I want to marvel in his presence. I want to be in his vision if, by chance, he opens his eyes during the night. I want him to feel safe. So I will sit here with his hand in mine, treasuring his every breath and his peacefulness.

My dad loved life to the fullest. He loved his friends and family desperately, and he marveled in the work of the Lord. One of our favorite places to visit is Silver Dollar City in Branson. We have traveled there countless times - I have many memories there as child, my sweet husband proposed to me there, and I was pregnant with Aubren during one visit. How fitting it is that Silver Dollar City was where my family traveled one month prior to my dad's diagnosis. It would be our last family vacation together.

Earlier today we recalled how the sheriff would always stand at the park entrance and greet visitors saying, "Howdy neighbor, welcome to Silver Dollar City!" We talked to my dad about what sweet memories flood our minds when we hear those words. Then I thought of the next greeting my dad wants to hear: "Well done, my good and faithful servant." What sweet and joyous freedom those words will bring.

I have been blessed with such gracious and hospitable parents; not only have they impacted their friends and community, but also mine. Throughout my teen and college years, my home was a refuge to many of my friends. It was like a home away from home. Even my community of girlfriends in adulthood have met my parents; and even though their visits have been short, they know them well enough to have experienced the kind of wonderful, loving, and faithful people they are. I am deeply blessed to have parents who have made such a positive impact on others. It has been an honor to brag about them and show them off to my friends throughout every stage of life.

My parents have loved others so purposefully through their life that now we find ourselves blessed with so many dear friends returning the favor. In these last days his friends have been constantly sitting with him, singing and reading scriptures over him, praying and weeping over him. Both he and my mom have poured their hearts into people and it is such an encouragement and comfort to feel that love returned through others.

I am scared. While writing these last few paragraphs, dad has stopped breathing 16 times. All I can do is sit and watch. He continues to open his eyes, but I am unsure if he is aware that I am here. I hope that he is. I know I can't predict when he will pass, but I desperately want for one of us to be here with him. I want him to see our faces if his eyes open. I want him to feel safe and loved when he slips away.

As I begin to drift off to sleep, it is hard not to wonder if he will wake in the morning.

Wednesday, September 15th

Hospice has been wonderful during this process. At first, I was not sure how beneficial having them around would be since we are blessed with the company of good friends day and night, but their presence is amazing. The aides and nurses are tender, sweet women who treat my dad as if he were their own.

We just finished bathing my dad with the help of the hospice aide. I have thought many times about how it never crossed my mind that I would become one of my dad's caregivers. I have always had the feeling of safety with my parents; I grew up seeing them as my protectors and caregivers. So, it was very difficult for me to begin taking care of my dad - especially helping him use the restroom for the first time. The next day I spent a lot of time, in tears, trying my best to process what we had just experienced together.

Now that day seems long ago. As time has gone on and the illness progressed, my duties as caregiver have increased. But today, while holding my father naked, the process seemed natural. I am not ashamed of my body - nor do I think nakedness taboo - but I feel in our culture today we often emphasize that our bodies should be hidden and private. I'm not saying one should flaunt it, but I have learned to appreciate more the wonderful body the Lord has given to each of us. I see it as a privilege to cradle my dad in my arms, kissing his arm while walking him through the process, and assuring him that I won't let go of him. There is nothing embarrassing or shameful about it. I'm simply doing my part to love him in the same way I know he would me.

I am sitting by my dad's bedside now. How strange it is for me to watch his chest; I stare closely and watch it rise and fall, then stop. I begin to count and the seconds continue to lengthen. How surreal these moments are, never knowing if it will be our last. He continues to open his eyes with a blank stare, not engaging with me as I speak to him. Some people believe in these moments that he is seeing into his next journey. I hope this is true. I hope he is experiencing something beautiful. I hope he is escaping from reality, even for a brief moment.

My mom is an amazing woman. She has been by my dad's side through the entire journey. I can not even begin to imagine the sorrow she must feel losing the love of her life. I wept this morning as I listened to her tell my dad what a wonderful man he is, how much she loves him, how no other man could take his place, how she will miss him, and that no matter what happens she will be okay.




For so long during this season we didn't want to talk to my dad about his illness or death. It would upset him and he would withdraw. Then, when he began to decline, he would often become agitated when we spoke of emotional or sentimental things because he could not communicate in return. But now, in his last days, we have to speak these words to him. It helps give us some sort of closure and hopefully encourages him and gives him peace.

I received another precious kiss this morning. As a child, each of my parents and I had a kissing pattern that we would do before bed. A few months ago I reminded him of this and he asked if we could resume our tradition. So we have, and this morning when he wanted to give me a kiss I soaked it in.

Kiss kiss kiss, hug hug hug, kiss kiss!

Tuesday, September 14th

Daddy was awake for a bit this morning. We surrounded his bedside and I was so proud of Katie and Liese. Even though it is difficult for them to see their PaPa, I know it is a blessing to him to have them near.

I don’t want to leave him. I love to hold his hand and feel his warmth. And even if he looks as though he is sleeping, I tell him over and over again how much I love him and am proud of him. He expressed those words to me daily growing up and I hope it encourages him to hear them from me.

It is very difficult to not hear his voice. I desperately want him to tell me how much he loves me. I want to hear his contagious laughter. I want to feel the safety of his embrace. Those things are no longer, so this morning when I bent down and he kissed me I captured that moment in my mind. It will be something I treasure forever.

We were able to spend some time with dad this evening. He can barely open his eyes. I feel as though it must take all of his strength to keep them open and to be present with us. When he looks in our eyes I feel as though he is soaking us in trying to remember us in case it is the last time he sees us in this lifetime. Every moment is precious and I am grateful for them all.

Monday, September 13th

I woke up this morning recalling a dream. I dreamed I placed my head next to my dad and he spoke to me through his thoughts. He told me that this process was difficult. I can not imagine what is going through his mind and how frustrating it must be for a man such as himself, an encourager and a man who is wonderful at speaking affirming words to those he loves, to not be able to respond when family and friends express their love and memories. I know there is so much he is desperate to say, so much love he wants to express in return. That is why I am so thankful that I come from a family who daily expresses their love for one another. We have no regret. We all know how much he loves us and he, in return, knows how incredibly loved he is.

I have enjoyed today. I have been able to spend time just sitting with dad, sometimes snuggling with him. He is sleeping most of the day, so when he is awake we soak in these precious moments. We surround his bedside and relive memories and encourage him with words reminding him of the man he is.

My sweet girls love their PaPa. They both have tender hearts towards him. Sweet Milia Mae has always had a special connection. Before dad was diagnosed, Milia loved to snuggle and give him kisses. She has always gravitated towards him. It has been difficult for me to watch my little girl desperately try to get to her PaPa and for him not be able to hold her. She loves to come into his room and point to his bedside. As soon as someone picks her up she wants to bend down and give him kisses.

the day before brain surgery. milia was soaking in the snuggles and kisses.

And my sweet Aubren… I am so glad that she feels comfortable being in his room. She was hesitant the first time she saw him in his hospital bed but now she loves to be with him. She is curious and beginning to ask a lot of questions. She was sitting with my sister the other day watching dad sleep. She leaned her head against Amy’s chest and simply said, “I wish PaPa didn’t have cancer.” She has also said, “I just want PaPa to play with me again.” To my sweet girl: I hope you know that your PaPa desperately wants to play with you too! And to both of my precious girls: I want you to always know that your PaPa was crazy about both of you. You were special treasures to him.

proudly holding her chapstick that she has graciously shared with PaPa

Aubren walked in the other day proudly showing off her new hair braid to dad. As she left the room dad looked at me and said, “she looks pretty”. It is very rare to hear him speak words other than "yes" or "no." It meant so much to me, hearing his voice, and knowing how difficult is was for him to express those words meant even more. One of the last sentences he will ever speak was to tell me my daughter was pretty. What a treasure that moment was to me and I hope it will be to Aubren as well someday.

I remember, as a child, struggling with never knowing my grandpa Sam, my dad’s father. He passed away before I was born and I remember many times crying in the arms of my dad wishing that I had been able to know him and to have shared memories together.

I am so sad that my girls will not have their PaPa and that they will not be able to make many more memories with him. I am sad that he will not get to experience their first theater performance, their recitals, their first day of school, their birthdays, their graduations, their weddings, and so much more that our life will bring us. But I am eternally grateful that they knew one another even if their time together was short.

Sunday, September 12th

We have had many people who love us coming and going over these last few weeks. The visits have been a blessing, but this morning was so quiet and peaceful. The house was empty except the four of us. My mom, my sister, and I sat at my dad’s bedside and enjoyed every minute of our interaction.

Later in the day his breathing became irregular. He would stop breathing for 10 -15 seconds then resume. It is heart-wrenching to watch this and to be reminded of his approaching death. The reminder, though, makes me so very thankful for the moments like those we shared this morning.

The nurse came out to evaluate him and she is unsure how long he has, but expects it to be in the next 10 days. I hope and pray that the end is near. I desire nothing more than for my dad to get out of bed, but when his death is guaranteed I want him to be taken quickly. I want his weary soul to be joyful again.

journaling our journey

My sweet dad at age 54 was diagnosed with stage IV glioblastoma multiforme the day before Thanksgiving, 2009. He underwent brain surgery on December 14^th to remove the large tumor. I remember embracing him right before surgery and he let go and looked in my eyes and said, “Stacy, I am crazy about you.” I feel that was the moment I lost my dad; he was never the same. He was still here but the vibrant, dynamic, enthusiastic man I knew was gone.

It has been difficult to write during this journey. My sweet husband bought me a journal to document my thoughts, but only once have I opened it to write. The experiences I have been through these last 10 months have been so tough I didn’t want to journal because I truly did not want to remember. My dad is now on hospice and near the end of his life and I want to remember our last days together so I have begun to write.

two days after diagnosis. many tears were shed during this photo shoot,
but i am so thankful that we have these photographs.

saturday morning photo shoot

going green.

for the last six months or so we have been throwing around the idea of becoming a one car family. we wanted to simplify our life, reduce our carbon footprint, save money, and be content with what we have. so, when our volkswagon died in the HOV lane on 635 we decided to go ahead and make the change. we now only have our 2 door honda accord. it is sometimes a challenge with the little ones and i am sure we will have to make activity sacrifices as we go forward but we feel it is worth it. trey has his scooter and he enjoys using the public transportation system. the girls and i have even used the bus and we look forward to the weather getting cooler so we can tote the girls around in the bike trailer.

trey's friend, rob mccullom, is the co-host of good morning texas. they are doing a special on going green and rob asked trey to come on the show to discuss our decision to live as a one car family and our use of the dart system. trey had to submit a photo of our family for the segment so you may see the one below if you tune in thursday morning (8.05)

sweet slumber.

aubren rarely takes naps anymore, so when she does it's a sweet moment. she also
thought her mom was pretty cool when I agreed to let her sleep in her princess tent!

day at the zoo

cousin katie-kate has been staying with us for a few days and today we decided to go to the dallas zoo. our plan was to stay for an hour or so, but with the heat (or lack thereof), we ended up staying for five hours. the girls had so much fun and since we have a membership the day only cost us $7!!

the new giants of savanna exhibit

feeding the giraffes!

we had to wait 45 minutes for bird's landing to open so aubs enjoyed playing in the water. i lost sight of her at one point and found her sitting in the water behind a rock joyfully singing to herself.
aubs wanted to make sure the bird was as far away from her as possible
right after the bird pooped on her!


my sweet girl did so good today! she stayed in her stroller most of the time which is unusual. she loved seeing the animals and watching the girls ride the carousel.

milia's first dance

our littlest love

taken by daddy at aunt karis's wedding

4th of July

we spent the 4th of July with family in Arlington. we stayed at the sheraton hotel on the 3rd and while it wasn't storming we enjoyed time out by the pool. the guys went to the rangers baseball game and we were supposed to watch the fireworks after the ball game but they were canceled. sunday we went to my parents for lunch and the girls enjoyed setting off some little fireworks!

the girls were tuckered out after swimming!

milia loves her some cherrios!

aubs was sad she couldn't sit in the shopping cart and trey couldn't resist capturing the moment!