Cancer, Coping, and the Every-Day Maces

I feel so much love for all you friends- you've really lifted us this year. It's been three weeks since Hyrum died, and I know many are wondering how we/the kids are doing. Others have asked how to best talk with us or support us going forward. Let's see if I can address those topics concisely? If you ask me "How are you?" in person, you'll probably hear me say, "You know... we're okay." And I mean that. Often, I'll add "It's all the things!" By which I mean that in these weeks we've experienced a very fluid blend of relief, peace, exhaustion, pain, sadness, anger, joy, and so much more. Emily still asks where Hyrum is, and she talks to him in her dreams. Caleb is sorting through countless mixed memories of Hyrum- their goofy knock-knock jokes, times when Hyrum pushed him away, and Hyrum's sudden disappearance from our physical life. We process with him in scattered 3-minute conversations, with the occasional and unexpec

I'm not a soloist, but I really love this song. Singing it at Hyrum's funeral made me feel close to him. Some of you have requested a recording of Sorrow Garden, so here's a rough and imperfect one... Because I figured the timeliness of music in our healing and grief is more important than musical perfection. We love you all. (Lyrics below) Sunny boy, my gardener, I see the blossoms in your soul.  You let your feelings sprout and spread in blue and red and yellow-gold. You grew a sorrow garden, So few tomorrows garden. The holes and hurt there in the dirt could never stop your garden. You grew the purple twisted vines each time you pushed through fear or pain,  With roots so deep and leaves so fine, they glisten every time it rains.  And then the tiny gentle sprouts- small moments others might not see. This dark earth makes them stand out. How dear it feels now, just to be. You grew a sorrow garden, So few tomorrows garden. The holes and hurt there in the dirt could never