Happy Bug-a-versary!

Today marks 10 years that Miriam came to live with us. We met her for the first time on March 11th, 2000. It was so fun to be with her! We met her in a park with her case worker, Lori, and her foster mom, Karen. It was a long drive to Atascadero, California, but it was worth the drive!

This is one of my favorite pictures of Doug and Miriam. We were at Morro Bay, and they were walking on the beach together. I just couldn't resist taking about a thousand pictures of them together. It was so cute to see them hand in hand looking for sand dollars and really cool shells. Miriam had a really good eye for things once you showed her what you were looking for. She found a bunch of shells that I still have in a frame with this picture. I keep that picture in my kitchen so I can see it every day.

We built sandcastles all afternoon. Miriam has always loved to build things. It was a beautiful day, and when it was time to leave, we had to practically drag her away from the sand.

I just loved the outfit she was wearing. Karen put her in her NEW corduroy Winnie the Pooh overalls. I would just like to say that sand never, EVER comes out of corduroy. EVER. I must have washed that in the hotel room 50 times. Still, when we returned them to her foster mom, they were stiff and still leaving sand everywhere. Lesson learned, don't let that happen to you. I still feel a bit guilty.

We took her to a children's museum in San Louis Obispo the next day to meet with her case worker. She had tons of fun standing inside of a giant bubble, flying a plane with her new dad, and sliding down a dinosaur's back. We had a hard time getting her out of this train, too. She just loved having her picture taken, unless it was with me. She didn't like me very much. She just didn't want a new mom.

This was as close as she would let me get to her most of the weekend. Lucky for me, because that meant that Doug had to do all the diaper changing and clean up after eating.

We came back the next weekend to see her again, and she was able to stay overnight with us in our hotel room. We took a little couch that we bought for her that would unfold into a bed so we could actually get some sleep. We blew giant bubbles that weekend, and spent some time swimming with her.

That weekend, we went to Pismo Beach to meet with Lori. Miriam wanted to stay on the swings forever. It was impossible to get her off of the swings for many years after that.

This is a picture of Miriam that Karen took of her 10 years ago today. They were at the airport waiting for their flight to Utah. What an adventure for Miriam, not to mention Karen. Miriam never liked to sit still for more than 20 seconds at a time. What do you do with a little girl that likes to pose for pictures when you have hours to sit around? You take plenty of photos of the little poser.

This is the evening of March 31st, 2000. She was so excited to see her little couch again. She wore it to shreds. She was so excited to see us again, almost as much as we were excited to see her. I think she changed her mind a week later, when she realized that she was staying. Poor Miriam. It's rough to have us as parents.

These are just a few of Miriam's stuffed animals. We gave her the white rabbit the first day we met her. Pooh, Tigger, and Eeyore were waiting for her on her bed when she arrived. The little Pooh Bear was a gift from Sam and Stacie. That was a well used little bear. The little brown bear was one of her toys that she had when she was living with her birth mom, and it never had a name. Miriam never named anything, she thought it was silly. One of her most favorite toys was the "Happy Face". She had that for a couple of years until it popped. It was a toy she had with her birth mom, too. She just loved her happy face. We still have all these animals stored away for her own kids, someday. They might just find a spot or two of Vaseline on the rabbit or Tigger that we somehow missed cleaning off.

 

This is Uncle Ron with Miriam on her second day with us, April fool's day. She instantly fell in love with Uncle Ron. He supplied her first wheeler ride. Thus started the need for more and more rides, and more visits to "Untow Won's" house. She still loves him deeply, as well as wheeler rides. Totally addicted.

This is my sister, Darcy, that helped us find Miriam. I am so thankful for her and the friend she was to a single mom that happened to be blind, and couldn't take care of her daughter any more. Her example of friendship is a huge lesson to me. Miriam cares for her so much. They were the best of buds. Now that Darcy is gone, we miss her more and more every year. We have such a special place in our hearts for her. I owe her more than I could ever repay. She is a wonderful big sister and I miss her.

Miriam was playing with our camera today, and I had no idea until I picked up the camera to download some pictures from it. I am happy that she took a picture of herself today. Ten years later. My, how things have changed. She is so happy, and doing great in school. She is starting to enjoy laughter, and I love to hear her laughing at herself. What a blessing she is in our lives. We love you, Bug!

Day three and all is well.

Today we picked up Doug from the airport. It is amazing to me that you can smell a country on someone. I know what China smells like, and it isn't that great. Thank heaven for washing machines and laundry soap. However, this got me thinking about our noses. I like mine. It has been with me all my life, and I have become quite attached to it. It is terrible when it is stuffed up, and I can't use it. It sometimes enjoys causing mischief by itching and making me sneeze. I think it feels ignored. I find at times I am irritated by it because when it has a problem, I am very irritable. Nothing worse than an itchy nose.

It has the ability to smell some pretty terrible things. Like broccoli gone bad in the fridge, or garbage that has been waiting for garbage day to come in the 100° heat for a week. Or when a diaper needs to be changed. Just when you think that you would prefer to have your nose surgically removed because of allergy problems, or having to clean out the fridge, something wonderful happens. Just a whiff of a pleasant smell can change your mind about being rhino-challenged. I feel so fortunate to be able to smell a freshly baked apple pie or cinnamon rolls. In honor of Thanksgiving, what about the delicious scent of a turkey in the oven? The smell of freshly baked bread from my bread machine in the morning when I wake up makes life worthwhile. I still remember Nanny, my Mom's mom. She passed away from cancer when I was quite young, but I can't smell Avon's Skin So Soft without having vivid memories of her.

Smells are such powerful things. They help us recall moments in our lives, or people we love, or places we have been.  I have missed the way Doug smells (the good smells) all week. When he comes home from a long trip, he isn't really home until he showers and puts on clean clothes. Somehow it just isn't right until he removes the smell of Asian cigarettes and air polution. Know what I mean? When he smells better, all is right with the world, because my man is home.

I am also grateful for eyelashes. As women, we curl them, paint them so they look darker and longer, and we can now use chemicals to lengthen them. It might change the color of your eyes, but who cares? You will have longer lashes. Someone even went as far as to create false lashes. You can buy them in strips, groups, singles, or in bright colors. You can have extensions done from a professional, or take the time to do it yourself. Just be careful not to glue your eyes shut. Hey, I've seen it happen, my friend. It isn't pretty.

Every day, I put on mascara. Unless I am deathly ill, of course. In which case, I don't answer the door. Heaven forbid that anyone should see me without my lashes done. My natural eyelashes are the color of my skin. When I don't dress them for the day, people think I am terribly ill. (Someday I may just take advantage of that.) Doug used to laugh and tell me I didn't have any eyes when I washed off my makeup. What am I, some alien freak? At least I am all set in case of invasion or abduction.

I have been thinking about this lately because of my neice. Last spring, she pulled out all her eyelashes and eyebrows. They were bugging her. I guess 3rd graders just don't care about those long and lovely lashes they are graciously given. It is shocking to see someone without eyebrows or eyelashes. Their faces are no longer framed, and they have a shocked expression, not just surprised. It is now almost Thanksgiving, and they are just starting to show some growth.

It's one thing if someone is going through chemotherapy, they lose all of their hair. Everything matches, and it is fine. But when they lose hair in just one location, it is bizarre. In my freshman year of high school, a kid shaved off his eyebrows. He won $20 for doing it. He said it wasn't worth it. Sometimes you are grateful for lessons other people have learned.

Today, I have also been thinking about hugs. When I was little, my Uncle Gene would try to corner me at every visit, and ask me where his kiss was. I'm sorry, but I never had a kiss for you. Don't even try it. You are an old man. You are not my parent, you are not my baby brother or sister, and I am too young to be engaged. Those are the only conditions that warrent a kiss from me. Keep your lips to yourself, thanks.

Hugs, on the other hand, are meant to be shared. I love them. They welcome someone into your space, and you can feel actual warmth from them. I decided when I was young, that hugs were the best. Today, I was able to hug my hubby after not seeing him for a week. I forget how much I like to hug him until I can't.

Years ago, when my sister, Darcy, was home for a visit, she said something that surprised me. "Amber, you give the world's best hugs. Nobody hugs like you." I was so surprised by that. Hugging Darcy was like hugging a fragile piece of porcelain. She became so thin, I was always worried that I might squeeze too hard and break one of her ribs. I wanted her to know I cared about her, and that she meant something to me. Hugging her was an opportunity to show her how happy I was to see her, and that she was an important part of my life. It never occurred to me that she liked it. I would love to be able to hug her again. I think the best hug ever will be the one I get to give her when I see her in her perfect body, healthy, happy, and strong.

If only Uncle Gene would have asked for a hug instead of a kiss.......

Darcy's day.

Today, February 22, is my sister, Darcy's 44th birthday. We used to always say that there was something special about that number. We are both born on the 22nd. I am in January, she is one month later, but 4 years ahead. (2+2. Ok, we were kids when we thought that up.) I don't think we could have ever imagined at that age, how things would turn out in our adult years. We never expected her life to end at such a young age, or for her to have the problems that she did. Lupus was terrible on her body.

I will never forget the day Chris and Phil got married. We were in the Salt Lake Temple, and as I walked over to hug Darcy, I looked down at her hands. They were a dark blue color. I chuckled, and asked her if she had been dying levi's. She just smiled and said, "No. My lungs aren't working very well, and I don't have enough oxygen in my body". I was stunned. I didn't know that a body could be that blue.

After the ceremony, she really needed a little girl's room. Apparently, she was on a diuretic to reduce swelling, and she needed to find somewhere, fast. As we were being led back out of the temple, she saw a dressing room, and turned to tell us she would be right back. The matron guiding us said we were leaving, and she needed to go the other way. Darcy explained her situation, and insisted she would be right out as she started to walk into the dressing room. The matron ran over to her and said, "Sister, you can't go in there, that's a men's dressing room." As pale as she was, she blushed and apologized, and quickly ran back out as we all tried not to laugh in the temple.


When we were really little, I was probably 4 or 5, Darcy and I used to share a bed. She used to tease me every night. One night, I was tired, and she wouldn't stop talking. Suddenly, she said, "I bet you can't bite me and make me bleed." I turned to her and said, "Of course, I can." She said that I was too little, and my teeth were baby teeth. There was no way I could ever bite her hard enough to hurt her. I was totally insulted. I may be little, but I was not weak. I explained how sharp my teeth were, and that it would hurt her really bad. She continued to insist that she was bigger and stronger, and that I was just a little kid. I rolled over and tried to ignore her.

This escalated the situation, because she couldn't stand that she wasn't getting to me. She insisted I try to bite her arm. I told her I couldn't do that, I would get in trouble. She said she wouldn't tell. I told her that I could make her bleed, and she would get mad. I laid down and closed my eyes. "Come on, bite me." She kept prodding me, "Just do it. Go on, it won't hurt me. I'm tough."


She harassed me all night long, or at least for about 5 minutes or so. Time lasts forever to kids. Finally, I had had enough. I opened my eyes, and her arm was right in front of my face. I grabbed it and bit down hard. I still remember what that felt like. I can't see a vampire movie without remembering it. There was a sudden blood curdling scream. I looked down, and saw a red imprint of my teeth on her forearm, and 2 little marks that were barely bleeding. I have never seen her move so fast. She practically flew up the stairs screaming for Mom all the way.


"This is it," I thought. "I'm in big trouble, now." I waited nervously in my bed to await my punishment. This was gonna be bad, I could feel it. There was no way in the world that my Mom would believe that Darcy told me to bite her. After a couple of minutes, I heard my Mom coming down the stairs. "Here it comes." I thought. "I'm going to be grounded until I'm old, like 30, or something."


My mom came and sat on the bed next to me. She asked me to explain what happened, and I said, "She told me to do it." Her response was, "I hardly think that she wanted you to bite her." "Yes, she did!" I replied. I explained the whole story. Mom thought for a moment, and then said, "Do you always do what people tell you to do? If someone told you to jump off of a cliff, would you do it?" How stupid did she think I was? "No." "Well, next time someone tells you to do something that isn't a good idea, don't give in." Was I really off the hook that easily? I could swear that Mom was trying not to giggle all the way back up the stairs.


Darcy came back down a few minutes later, tear streaks on her cheeks. She was still trying to settle down. She was sniffing, and breathing unevenly. There was a damp washcloth that she was holding to her arm, and she wouldn't look at me. She slowly climbed into bed, attempted to cover herself up with her "injured" hand, and continued to try NOT to cry. My only defense was, "You told me to do it."

Darcy was always very proper. She didn't like to do things that made her look silly. At one point, she was in intensive care at U of U hospital. This was before either of her transplants. She was there for observation, and was joking about the nurse's reactions when she came to check herself into intensive care. (Not something that happens everyday.)


Doug and I went to visit her, and while we were there, Reed showed up as well. They were divorced by then, and she told us after he left how surprised she was that he came to see her. While we were all there, talking, Darcy decided that her bed needed to be raised so she could sit up more comfortably. She picked up the controller, and hit the button to raise the bed. As the bed was moving, it caught on some of the cords to all of the equipment. She was unplugged. All kinds of beeping started going off, and she started laughing.


Suddenly, she pretended to be flopping all over the bed like she was dying. Very out of character. We were all laughing with her as she continued to flop and moan, when a nurse walked into the room. The three of us suddenly stopped laughing, but Darcy did not see her. She continued in her death throws. The nurse walked over to her bed, trying to figure out what was going on, when Darcy suddenly caught a glimpse of her. Immediately, Darcy became serious, and said, "Oh. Sorry. I came unplugged." The nurse reattached everything, and left the room.

There was an immediate burst of laughter from all four of us. We laughed until we cried. I was glad that she could see the brighter side of things.

Darcy always thought that she should be my protector and my teacher. She did teach me many things, and we had some really good times. I remember coming home from school one day and Darcy had covered my bedroom door in hearts for Valentines day. She bought me a shirt that could glow in the dark, which sparked a new game for me and Trina. Trina had a glow in the dark Supergirl shirt, so we started playing "Glow in the dark-hide and seek". Darcy loved to get in on that one. She would jump out and scare us in the dark.


She was a good big sister at school. I remember my first time eating in the lunchroom in first grade. Darcy was in 5th grade, and called me over so I could sit by her and all of her friends to eat. I thought she was so cool. She tried to teach me how to twirl a flag. (I got much better at it later on.) She taught me to love the music of Amy Grant. I think of Darcy every time I hear her. I remember singing with her at the piano. I loved to hear her play the flute. I remember my first activity in Young Women's. We went sledding, and someone came down the hill on a giant tube. They ran into the bonfire we had going, narrowly missing my sister. One other girl was knocked in, but got out quickly enough that no serious damage was done. I remember thinking, "That could have been Darcy. What would I do if anything happened to her?"


The last time we were together, she mentioned that the one good thing about her lung transplant was that the anti-rejection medication she took prevented any symptoms of Lupus from bothering her. Talk about seeing the bright side of things. She definitely had a temper growing up, but life changed her attitude about the world. She wanted so much to help others. I admire that, and hope that someday I can be to others, what she was to me.