Over the last year, we have been in the process of building a home. We are now in it. It is big and beautiful, and completely functional. It meets all our needs. We hope to never leave it. We built it so we could live here when we are old. The process has been stressful and tiresome, but also rewarding. All along the way, I've thought of my dad. He would have been so excited for us. He would have loved it. He would have been so positive, and helped me to not get so upset with the small things along the way, or he would have at least listened to me and heard me out, which just makes me feel better.
It was hard to leave the rental house in Lehi for our new house in Lehi, not because it was so great. It was because that was the house I moved to right after my dad died. Mark picked out the house by himself while I stayed in St. George and sat in the hospital room by my dad. The timing was crazy, but a blessing too. It allowed us to spend more time in St. George before we moved completely from Vegas. I experienced an array of emotions at that rental house- numbness, loneliness, anger, grief, sadness, etc. It was hard, and yet that house was comforting. It was a small house and it felt safe to me. My kids' bedrooms were upstairs, right by mine. My whole function in life at that time, was to survive, take care of my kids, deal with my grief, help my mom, and try to not make Mark suffer as much as I was. He was dealing with my dad's death himself.
So the transition, though hard, was good. All through the moving process, I thought of my dad. The last weekend I saw him before he was in the hospital, was at my house in Vegas helping me pack for the move. I only wish I knew what was going to happen, and that I could have done something to save him. I've moved now to this house. My dad would be so proud and happy. I know he is. He was most happy when his kids were happy and successful.
I've wanted a closeness to my dad. To feel him, to talk to him, to know he is here. I read something that talked about how our deceased loved ones are around us and we just don't realize it. They give us feelings or thoughts. As I've paid attention, I've realized it has happened to me. A priesthood blessing gives me that, and sometimes I just have some thoughts or emotion that I know comes from outside me. While doing Zumba this summer at the church, the song was about being happy. It was very upbeat and I really enjoyed it. One time when it said, "Be Happy." I knew it was my dad talking to me. I felt it in my whole body, and immediately started crying. I really can't describe it eloquantely, but I knew instantly what he wanted for me.
Also, I had a dream a couple of months ago, that I knew my dad was talking to me. We were in Disneyland, my dad and my family, and I was trying to help him with something. He started bleeding and getting really sick and I knew he was dying right there. I woke from my dream, not completely woke up, but recall not being in such a deep sleep, and trying to figure out what that meant. I wasn't crying, and then in my head it replayed and I heard my dad say, there was nothing I could have done to save him. He was going to die. The Disneyland event was to show me that if it wouldn't have happened how it actually did, it was going to happen soon anyway a different way. He had to go, and I couldn't do anything to save him. I woke up sobbing. Over the previous couple of weeks, I had been having so many flashbacks to his death. I felt so much guilt that I didn't do more to save him. I should have known and I should have had him at every doctor until we figured out what was going on. I realized from that dream, my dad does watch over me. He knows what I am going through, even though he isn't physically here. People in life don't even have that protection or love like I do from my dad who is no longer here. He will always be with me. I love him.
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