Dear Jeff

*I asked everyone to share their memories of Jeff by writing them down and placing them in a box at the funeral or by email them to me (it is not to late, jot them down and send them to me whenever you think of one). So I thought it was only fair that I write one too. On the Sunday after his funeral I had the kids sit and write their letters. I joined them. This isn't the letter I thought I was going to write, but it is from my heart - and probably would have been more appropriate for the funeral talk - but you get what you get. I am sharing this with you now as a way to close out these posts. Thanks for your love and support! Now grab a hankie, if you react the way I did when I wrote this, and again when I typed it, and again when I proofread it, there will be a flood!

Dear Jeff,

It has been just over a week since you passed away. It has been quite a whirlwind of a week. Some pretty low lows, some pretty great times, and more than one frustrating moment!

The last two weeks we spent together were so hard, especially for you, but they were also amazing. You got so much done.

The night before the last night we had together was when my spirit really knew or acknowledged you were going. It got you all settled in your chaise lounge to sleep and you asked if the kids were coming home (they had been sleeping over at your parents with their cousins all week.) I said I didn’t know. You said it was really hard not having them around. I said I would go get them. I sensed you were scared that your time was short and you wanted to spend more time with them. When I brought the kids home we set up the video camera and you let them ask any questions they wanted (thanks for that – because you know, I still have to raise them. Having them know you made out with girls at 14 – not helpful!!). You made a valiant effort to be alert, but your body was so tired!!

The next day you asked hospice to bring in a hospital bed. I wasn’t sure why, and it seemed really inconvenient, but I was letting you have your way, so I just went with it. You tried to get comfortable in that stupid bed a couple of times, but you just couldn’t. I asked why you just didn’t sleep on that chaise. You said you didn’t want to die on my furniture. You big jerk. That broke my heart in so many ways.

That last night after Gabe and the Moab friends came to visit I got you drugged up and tucked in (on the chaise lounge.) Then I crawled in with you to have a chat. I decided to face what my spirit knew, but my mind wasn’t ready to acknowledge. I said “Let’s talk about your funeral. We have been married for over seventeen years and I don’t even know if you have a favorite hymn. You barely thought for a couple of seconds before you said “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” I told you I thought that was a weird song for a funeral, but you never said another one, so I went with it! It turned out to be a beautiful song for your funeral. Then we moved on to the song you wanted for a musical number (we had already discussed the fact that I was speaking – so I didn’t think we needed to go over that again.) You didn’t have one off the top of your head so I suggested two. You picked the one I didn’t want, so I read you the lyrics of both. You decided on the one I liked (funny how that was how it usually worked in our relationship – I am so smart!)

While we were talking you asked me to get the video camera. You had already recorded messages to the kids where you sat on the couch and tried to look as alert and strong as possible, in fact you had just finished that a few hours before. I told you there was no place for the tripod (because someone had put a big freaking hospital bed in my living room) and you told me to just hold it. You lay there, weak, tired and with your oxygen on and recorded a beautiful message for me that I will always cherish. You reminisced about our lives together, what a gift, you even remembered things I had forgotten!

Then you needed to sleep. You slept for an hour and woke at 9:30. You asked where the kids were. I said they would be home soon. You didn’t feel up to doing much when they got home, so I got out the things to do hand molds with the kids and you were able to do one with each of them. Then we had a family prayer and hugs and kisses good night. I think it was the first time the whole family had slept under the same roof in a week!

You woke up again at 4 am and I gave you more meds and lay by you to do a breathing treatment. Your body was just so tired! I kept thinking (but couldn’t ever say it out loud) “I want you to stay with me forever, but if you need to go I will be okay.”

After I gave you a drink at 7 am I knelt by your bed crying and repeating those words over and over in my head, but I never did say them to you!

I got up to go to the bathroom at 8. I was gone for less than two minutes. When I got back, you were gone. It was like you were just waiting for that quiet moment alone.

I gathered the family and told the kids and we sat by your quiet earthly body while we waited for the funeral home to come. But I am sure your spirit was everywhere in that room giving out love and peace. Your dad offered a sweet family prayer before they took your body away.

It was like our lives suddenly came off pause and the whirlwind began. We had to go to the funeral home and make all your arrangements. I was a bit of a maniac! I felt like we needed some joking around to lighten the mood. I think your parents thought I needed drugs! I think the funeral director thought my apathy could not have been more complete. Four hours of making decisions I couldn’t care less about and I would say they were both right!

Then there were still all the little details. The service program, the pall bearers, the memorial video, the sign in book, clothes for the kids, clothes for me, writing the obituary. It seemed there were so many details. Add to that business things cropping up, I know they could have waited but sometimes it is just easier to deal!!

By Saturday everyone had returned to their homes and I chose to stay in my pajamas and watch TV (the TV that had been off for three weeks) all day. That was a good day!!

I do okay most of the time, I told you I would. Most of the time it doesn’t seem real, which makes it easier; but then something will happen and I will want to call you (usually I am just being rude), or I will look for you in a room, or I will think about an event or occasion you should be at and I feel myself crumble inside and the tears flow and I wonder again how it can be part of the plan that the two most important men in my life are both gone. I had them each for only about 18 years and I am a 36 year old widow and the world would call me a single mother (a role I will never accept because I expect you to be here all the time to keep them out of the biggest troubles!)

I did get to have some amazing experiences this last week also, sweet Tiffany went through the temple and was sealed to her cute family. Madison was so precious there. It was very poignant to think about them unifying their family for time and eternity as we begin the eternity portion of our family. How grateful I was for the choices we made 17 ½ years ago when we knelt at the altar (and you bumped your head on the chandelier, and my Uncle Karl – who sealed us – called you a big teddy bear) and were sealed for time and eternity through the proper priesthood authority.

And speaking of being sealed, this week the kids and I, your parents, and my mom had the opportunity to visit Elder Holland. He talked about how we use the word sealed, but really it is more than that – if we live worthily of those convents and blessings it is more like being WELDED together. He also blessed me to know that our kids would be okay; that that they wouldn’t be permanently damaged by having you taken to Heaven and out of their day to day lives so early. That was a great blessing – especially because I wasn’t sure they would be undamaged having me as their mother – even with both of us here! He also told me I would receive pleasure from my grandkids and my great grandkids, so I guess you are going to have lots of time to prepare my mansion in Heaven. I sure hope they have a self cleaning version there!

I love you so much and I am grateful for the time we had here together. I value all we learned together and the growth we experienced through good times and bad. Send me back a memory or two of our lives together here and there. I will try to be diligent about writing them down for the kids! I love you for time – and for all eternity (I just wish the space in between didn’t feel so long!) All my love!!

Cindy