One year later

A  year ago this month I was sitting in my house preparing to watch General Conference. I was looking forward to some much needed guidance and comfort from the mouthpieces of the Lord. I had a question in my heart that I was hopeful would be answered at some point in the eight hours of instruction I was about to receive. After months of heartache and confusion, my only question was, "How do I be happy?"

The first talk in the Sunday morning session was given by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf. He mentioned many situations that can cause us to be unhappy, including the loss of a spouse and other difficult and heartbreaking circumstances. He then stated,

Everyone’s situation is different, and the details of each life are unique. Nevertheless, I have learned that there is something that would take away the bitterness that may come into our lives. There is one thing we can do to make life sweeter, more joyful, even glorious.
We can be grateful!

That one paragraph would have been enough for me to know that Heavenly Father was looking after me, but the rest of the talk continued to fill me with peace and give me hope and joy for the future. It is a talk that I read over often, any time I need a better outlook on life. I have always looked forward to general conference, because I have always felt better after it.

This year was different, only in that it has been better than I have ever known conference to be. I have already received so much insight and guidance from the speakers. Sister Burton caused me to shed a significant amount of tears as I remembered the amazing example of my husband Josh, and gave me hope for the future that I might find another worthy priesthood holder to go through life with. L. Whitney Clayton reminded me to choose to believe. He said that "if we search for it, there will always be a spiritual light that beckons to us." Faith does not act on us, we must act on it. Many talks emphasized the importance of  families.

As many of you know, in the second session of General Conference today, during the sustaining of the general authorities, there was a cry of opposition for our dear prophet and the apostles. I was immediately struck with a feeling of shock and anger, even before I fully realized what was going on. It followed with overwhelming sadness and anxiety at this unexpected event. Most importantly, I felt as though the spirit had suddenly fled from me. After all the uplifting messages from the morning, I was feeling lost in my anger. Of course these people have a right to oppose, they have a right to declare that they do not support the prophet, but it was upsetting to hear them yell it in that room that I expected to be full of love and reverence. But ultimately that's all those people were really saying. While we sustain our prophet, and show support for the direction and teachings that he gives, these people choose not to. Okay. That's no problem of mine.

What I did find is that the Lord can make good out of any situation. Because of the outcry, I was more alert, and listened more intently to the rest of the talks. The feeling of the spirit quickly returned to me in full force during Elder Bednar's talk. He reminded me that "Jesus Christ is the only source of enduring peace," and that through an understanding of the gospel and faith in Him, our fears can be hushed. Elder Wilford advised that we have to "hear the music" and listen for the Holy Ghost. Listen for the confirmation from the Lord. Listen to our loved ones so we may better know how to help them. "We can only displace darkness when we introduce light." We sang "we Thank Thee, O God, For a Prophet," and I felt so thankful for these men that lead us. I felt a strong confirmation that they are men of God and I wholeheartedly sustain them.

There are talks from previous conferences that I will always remember. But never have I felt so moved throughout the entire day of listening to the words of our prophets and teachers. I must have suddenly become a better listener. I wish I could properly convey to you how this gospel makes me feel. I wish there were words to explain this feeling in my heart. All I can say is that I have heard truth today, and I am changed because of it.

The thoughts I have while watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is one of the best shows on Disney Junior because obviously. But it certainly brings up more questions than it answers. Here are the thoughts I have on the reg while I watch it:

How come Donald is the only one who says "present!" during roll call?

Sometimes I get frustrated when they ask dumb questions. 

How come in that one episode when they were looking for something purple, they didn't just snatch the bow off Daisy's head? SHE'S STANDING RIGHT THERE.

Donald has an Uncle Scrooge, and Huey, Dewey, and Louie are Donald's nephews. Where are anybody's parents?? And how does Ludwig von Drake fit into any of this? 

When are Minnie and Mickey gonna give in and get married already?

How do they have slides that go up?

How come Donald is the only one who doesn't wear shoes? Is it because of his big flipper feet? Wait, doesn't Daisy have big flipper feet??

Now I'm thinking about how painful it is for Daisy to walk around all day with those big flipper feet shoved in those heels. Get some comfier shoes, girl.

Wait, Pete is a CAT???

I don't understand how they're just revealing that information now. Pete looks nothing like a cat. He's bigger than Goofy! That is one fat cat.

Goofy! It's called a MOUSKETOOL. Not a mousketowel or mouskewhatsits. You are stumbling over literally the easiest part of that word to remember.

What if they got to the Mystery Mousketool, and they needed to get over a bridge or something, and they got a banana? Like why is it always so perfectly helpful all the time?

How do they just have a baby elephant hanging around all the time to be one of the Mousketools? Does he fit in the tool box? Where is his mother? I AM CONCERNED ABOUT THIS BABY ELEPHANT. Set him free, Mickey!

Donald was just swimming and he was wearing swim trunks, but now he changed and is only wearing that shirt thing. I don't get his style.

Minnie turns her feet impossibly far during the hot dog dance.

I want to live in the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

This is the best show.

Come what may, and do what now?

Last night, I had the opportunity to see Sutton Foster perform at BYU. For those who don't know, Sutton Foster is a Broadway babe, who also recently starred on the ABCfamily show Bunheads. She is crazy talented, sweet and charming, funny, and was just delightful. I love music so much, I love Broadway music so much, but I got a new found appreciation for both after seeing her perform. Beautiful.

Sutton (let's pretend we're on a first name basis) brought along with her another Broadway star, Megan McGinnis. They performed in Little Women together, and their voices sounded so amazing together.

Megan sang a song from her new musical, "Daddy Long Legs" and talked about it a little bit beforehand. It's the story of an orphan girl, who is sent to college by an anonymous benefactor, and his only request for her to continue going is to write him a letter each month chronicling her life there. The song she sang comes after a particularly bad day, and she quoted a line from the play that struck me right in the soul:

"It isn't the big troubles in life that require character. Anybody can rise to a crisis and face a crushing tragedy with courage, but to meet the petty hazards of the day with a laugh—I really think that requires spirit."

The words so quickly went from ears to my heart, that I barely had time to figure out why. It wasn't until this morning, when I was still thinking about them, that I asked myself why. Thinking about everything that I've had to deal with, and the "crushing tragedy" that I had faced, I wondered if I even believed this sentiment at all.

But I find truth in it, and I find strength from it. In retrospect, it was relatively easy to convince myself that things would be okay after Josh passed. I know that we will see each other, and I even know that he is watching over us just as much as he can. That doesn't mean that it isn't still hard every day though, and I guess that's kind of the point. We can get these big, meaningful answers to big meaningful questions, but the day to day trials can seem so frustrating when we're in them.

I remember packing to go to Disneyland with the Robisons in March, and I couldn't find something small that I needed, like a shirt or something, and at the time it made me so angry. I was yelling to nobody about how unfair it was. "Really?! After everything I've been through!! I can't just find my stupid shirt without tearing this room apart?!?!" It all seems very silly now, but it was a big deal to me when it was happening. And even now, sometimes I catch myself (or more likely, my loved ones catch me) being grouchy or rude, and ask me what's up, and I can't even give an answer. I sit there and think about it and realize I'm being a jerk without even feeling any kind of malice toward anyone or anything. I'm just annoyed because I want to change the channel, but the remote is next to the television.

My favorite joke these days, especially when I'm getting particularly worked up over something, is to say "This is the WORST THING that's ever happened to me." It makes people give me funny looks, and it makes me remember that spilling juice on my shirt is far from tragic.

I would like to be the kind of person who can meet the petty hazards of the day with a laugh. To have that spirit that not only says that I can do hard things, but I can deal with annoying things, and I can do it with a smile on my face.

Everything doesn't not happen for a reason

So the other night I had a bit of a meltdown. *She says in the most casual way she knows how.*

This wonderful family that we knew in Maryland came to visit. They are lovely and it was lovely and I am really glad they came. Their cute mama is from the Philippines, and talking to her was so fun for me. I tried to remember everything I had learned about the Philippines and relate to her the things I remembered that Josh liked and he had shown me. He always had and I'm sure still has an enormous love for Filipinos, and I have grown to love them too.

She shared experiences with me that gave me immense hope that Logan will feel his dad with him his whole life.

She also brought with her some jackfruit, which comes from the Philippines. I had never heard of it, and never tried it. And I didn't know if Josh had ever tried it, or if he had, whether or not he liked it. And that infuriated me. Not because I didn't know, but because I couldn't know. It's such a simple thing, but I will never, in this lifetime, be able to ask him if he likes jackfruit. I will just never know. I would guess that he has tried it. But I don't know how he felt about it, and I just won't know for certain.

In this modern age of technology with the smart phones and the Facebooks, I can contact pretty much anyone I want from around the globe. It is increasingly frustrating to me that Angelbook is not a thing. I do believe that I will always feel his influence in some way or another in my life, and so will Logan, and many people point that out, and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but IT IS NOT THE SAME.

It's not really about the fruit in the end. That was just the tipping point. In reality, it's about the every day things I wonder about that are bigger than that. Does he feel like I'm being a good mom to our son? When he gets older, will he approve of the way I try to raise him. I was always looking forward to his input as a parent, and now I'm terrified I'm going to mess it up on my own.

SO here's another thing. See how I just smoothly switched topics all sneaky-like?

I have been very lucky in that nobody has ever told me "Everything happens for a reason." At least nobody that I remember. Maybe I just blocked it out. Because it's not an incredibly helpful thing to say. It doesn't make you go, "Oh okay, in that case everything's fine LA DEE DAAAAA." And then you merrily skip away, obviously. No, no it doesn't do that. For the most part it just makes you angry. Because what is it? What is the reason? If you can't tell me that, then don't even start.

HOWEVER. Many people in my life have vehemently held by the opposite opinion that things don't really happen for a reason. And I don't really get that either. I wish I could say I even understood what it means, although at times I have felt a little better about it than its alternative. But it doesn't actually make sense to me, and it's not really something that I accept.

Despite the fact that I don't ever want anybody to point it out to me, I have to believe that everything does happen for a reason. Maybe not everything. Maybe not the tiny little things, and I mean, we have agency on this earth, so we can choose to do things and it doesn't mean there is a grand, eternal reason behind them ...

Moving on.

The BIG things happen for a reason. That's what I believe is true. That's what I have to believe.

If there isn't a reason for Josh dying, then he didn't need to die. And yes, I also have to believe that he needed to die. I believe that if I can't sit around with him and ask him whether he has tried jackfruit, or what to do when Logan lies to me, it's because he had something important to do. (Not more important. Just important.) Otherwise, what's even the point? Why would a healthy, 24-year-old who literally just became a father, be needed so badly on the other side? I don't know. I will never know. But in order for me to make any sense of it, I have to know that he was needed. I have to know in my heart that there was a reason, or the earth is just a colossal waste of time.

And it's not a colossal waste of time.

Thank you for listening, have a picture of my son playing with bath bubbles.

Bizarro Quick Sand

I'm sitting here staring at this empty page trying to figure out what to say. And by that of course I mean that I'm sitting here looking at funny pictures on the internet while simultaneously imagining that I'm staring at the empty page trying to figure out what to say.

I always feel guilty when people send me funny pictures because I guarantee you that I've seen it already, so I just don't know how to react. I try to fake a jolly guffaw, but it just never comes out right. Maybe guffaw isn't what I should be going for. That being said, anybody who ever wants to send me a funny picture should still do it! It's like my favorite gesture of all. "Hey, I just saw this really hilarious thing that made me blow air out of my nose harder than usual, and it made me think of you, and now I'm sharing it with you BECAUSE I CARE." Funny pictures are like the flowers of the internet. Funny pictures are the funny pictures of the internet. That makes a lot more sense in my head.

Internet pictures are also informative, by the way. Basically all of my knowledge about Orlando Bloom throwing a punch at Justin Bieber came in picture form. Also, this was pointed out to me:

And I appreciate whoever thought of it.

I have no idea why I have been talking about this so long. I guess I'm just a little sick of writing about sad things on here and bringing everybody down. But I want to talk about sad things, so I'm easing you into it maybe.

It's been a crappy week. Many of you already know that it was my anniversary on Monday, which was actually a surprisingly not so bad day. I went to the temple, and got my nails done, and went to dinner and a movie with my friends. We saw the Fault in Our Stars, because I apparently I just wanted to see approximately how many tears my body could physically handle. It's a lot. But it still felt good to just get it all out.

So I had people around me all day, and that was great, and I focused on the positive. But at the end of the night I was still alone on my anniversary without my husband. And the next day I was alone. And I'm still alone. And you may be surprised to learn that it still really sucks.

This is one of those times when I find it's the most important to just keep going, even if it is the smallest, tiniest bit. For a couple days there I got stuck, and I started shutting down again. I sat around and wallowed. And nothing makes things worse than wallowing. I don't think it will be a huge shock to discover that I have struggled a bit with depression after Josh died. Things have already gotten so much better, but it's just inevitable to feel that suffering after losing someone you love.

I see my depression as something like quick sand, but also kind of the opposite of quick sand. But I don't want to call it slow sand because that doesn't really make much sense either. It's like the Bizarro world Superman but for quick sand. Bizarro Quick Sand. I call dibs on copyrights if that ends up being a comic book villain some day. I feel as though there is this thing in the pit of my heart that is my sadness. And it's never going to go away, and there will always be times when I feel it. And that's okay. But if you sit in the sand for too long and dwell on it and relent and stress over it and think and think and think about it, trying to bring reason to it or figure out what you could have done differently, then before you know it your head is in the ground and you can't breathe. And I've heard that breathing is pretty good for your health. Sometimes it's healthy for me to think about what happened to Josh. I like to remember our last moments together. But in the past, all I did was blame myself for everything that happened. I felt like every single bad moment, and every single trial, were brought about because I either didn't act or acted wrong.

I don't think that anymore. I still struggle with it, but I tell myself all the time that if there was anything that could have been done to save Josh, he would have been saved. It's not my fault. It's not anybody's fault.

So instead of sitting in a pit of sand and letting it suffocate me, the only thing I can do is get up and brush it off. I just have to keep going. Sometimes I don't feel like I have anywhere to go, but I have to go anyway. It's okay for me to take a break. It's not bad to rest. It is bad to fall asleep. In the metaphor, I mean. Sleep is okay for realsies.

I don't want anyone to think that I'm trying to explain how depression is for everyone, and I definitely don't want anyone to think I'm trying to tell people who suffer with it that this is how to get over it. This is my situation. This is how I deal with what I have to deal with. The only person I want to explain is myself, and the only person I have authority over is me.

I want to thank everyone who has reached out to me ever over the last seven and a half months. Every single word has been heard and appreciated.

And for reading all of that, I give you wise words from Ron Swanson. Don't try to read into any correlations between what I just talked about and what he's saying. It's just funny is all.

Double bonus! A picture of Logan and me! Full disclosure, my whole face was showing in this picture, but I wasn't feeling it.

Once upon a time there was a magical land where it never rained

The End!

Basically today is really horrible and bad and hard and stupid and sad and dumb and blergh.

So here are a bunch of dad jokes because they make me laugh so hard, so you should laugh so hard too. I can not guarantee that everything you might read will be 100% appropriate.

Click here for so much funny!


My dad's personal favorites: pirate jokes

Where does a pirate go to the doctor?
The CARRRdiologist
Why did the pirate go to the movie?

Because it was rated AAARRRR

What is a pirate's favorite letter?
You might guess it is AAR, but his first love be the C.

MY favorite right now:

Why doesn't Magneto wear purple anymore?
Because the days of fuchsia passed.

Troika Linda

I have serious and important things to write, but I'm in Flowell and don't have my computer. So I tried to write in on my phone and I want to use so many (at least four) pictures so that was a joke. Luckily there are computers in this house, who woulda thunk?

I know this girl

pretty well. I mean she's only been my sister my entire life, and she gave me my favorite stuffed animal (a big ol', cuddly mouse) for Christmas when I was two. So you could say we're familiar.


















When I was little, I didn't think there was a better goal in life than being just like her. I always tried my very hardest to spend all the time with her and her friends learning how to be the most awesome, and was promptly kicked out of the room. But it's okay, she liked me eventually. Coming to college and having her to hang out with and make me feel like I already had at least one friend, the coolest friend, helped me believe that I could handle what life had to throw at me.

Even now it's hard for me to not see her as the foremost authority on everything as far as how awesome it is. I remember having a conversation with my sweet sister-in-law Kimberly who had to tell me that very thing. Because obviously we were arguing about whether Taylor Swift was good, and obviously my best argument was that "Tracy likes her." (Tracy, do you even still like her?) And Kimbop was all, "Tracy isn't always right about everything" or something like that and I just laughed it off, but my mind had this reaction.



And I pretty much still just think that if Tracy likes something, it's probably the best version of whatever thing it is she likes. That sentence made sense.

She has the MOST style of anyone I've met. Even on days when she's thinks she's so lazy and looks like a hobo, she looks more put together than I am on my best day. It's pretty frustrating actually. Oh, and have you heard of her modeling career? It mostly takes place on social media, but it's pretty amazing just the same.

She's doing laundry in this one. How is that even fair??

But the most important thing is that she is a good sister who is kind and loving and wonderful. When Josh died, she hurt so much right along with me. She is still all the time telling me how much she misses him and is there  for me when I need her. She lets me be sad and cry at her and welcomes it. The first time after it happened that I laughed so hard I cried and felt comforted was with her watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. He had that Benjamin Buttons thing. It was the first moment that I felt like things had the potential to get better. I just love her is all.

I'm telling you all this for a reason. That reason is this:

My sister is getting married to this man and his beard. After everything I've said about how good her taste is and how awesome she is, do you think she was settle for any less than the best? He is so good for her. I can see how he loves her. I can see how she loves him. If he reads this, he is probably just gagging at all the cheesiness in what I'm writing. I don't even care, Destin! Thank you for loving my sister.Thank you for being the best person in the world for her. Thank you for writing your love in the sand, but using an anatomically correct heart.

The Catching Hunger Fire Games

I finally watched Catching Fire, and halfway through I remembered seeing the first Hunger Games movie.

I went to the midnight showing with my lovely friend Emily Zimmerman. It was the Thursday night/Friday morning after Josh and I started dating. He couldn't go because I had gotten the tickets before then and I had no idea that I would have somebody to take when the time came. As I have mentioned before, Josh told me he loved me that Friday when we went to his family's house. I had completely forgotten until about two hours ago that I had been up so late at a movie the night before.

We went to the movie, and it was great, and I was telling Emily all about this boy I was dating and somehow I had managed to smuggle a giant takeaway box (I like to say takeaway because of that one time I lived in England for six weeks) of Beto's rolled tacos into the theater. There was lettuce and guac everywhere.

On the way home, we were texting. I honestly can't remember if I texted him first, not expecting an answer, or if he texted me to see if I was okay. I do remember thinking how incredibly sweet he was to still be awake waiting up for me to make sure I got home safe. I was still telling Emily about him after the movie, and with him texting me, I looked over at my friend and said, "Emily... I think this kid loves me." And then she was like, "you've been dating for like four days." And I knew that, but it just felt like it was coming, and then we all know that it did.

So that's crazy.

For the next two minutes, it is five months ago today that Josh died.

People always say how strong I am and how amazing I've been through all of this blah blah blah.

I still believe all the things I've said before. I still know that I will see Josh again.

It's not helping at the moment.

It doesn't take away the pain.

I miss him very much.

And I am so, so sad.

Happy Easter?

Yesterday was a ridiculously hard day.

Usually I'm somewhat prepared, but this time is was just like, "Yay, Easter! Oh no so many emotions, so much heartache I can't breathe aaaaaaagggghhhh!"

You ever had that?

I am in Flowell again this weekend because I'm doing this experiment to see when the Robisons will finally tell me to go the heck home. It was stake conference, which I don't really know how to describe to people who don't know what that is. The best I can say is that multiple congregations in the same area get together and have a meeting and we have great speakers and it's wonderful. One speaker that came was telling a story about how he had an impression that he needed to go to the hospital because of chest pains, and he found out he needed a heart transplant. The night before another test to see how he was doing, he plead with Heavenly Father to be healed to raise his kids and be with his family, and the next day he was totally healed.

It's a beautiful story, isn't it?

CAN YOU SEE WHY I MIGHT HAVE TROUBLE HEARING IT?

I have never doubted my testimony or thought that The Lord had abandoned me because Josh wasn't healed. I don't understand why this happened, but I did understand that it was for a reason. But when I hear a story like that, I can't help but wonder and question. Did I not have enough faith? Could I have done something differently?

I had to actively reassure myself that just because we didn't get the miracle we wanted, it doesn't mean we did anything wrong. It doesn't mean we were less deserving of a miracle. The miracles we received are just a lot more difficult to see.

Another speaker mentioned Lazarus, and I couldn't stop thinking about it the rest of the day. Boiled down version is that the two sisters of Lazarus told Jesus that Lazarus was sick, and eventually he died. When Jesus got to them, he had already been passed for four days. The sisters told Christ that if He had been there, He could have healed their brother.

Jesus went to the grave and called Lazarus to come forth, and he rose from the dead.

Before he healed Lazarus, the most meaningful moment I have read in the scriptures is captured:

Jesus wept.

Jesus. wept.

This man. The Son of God. A man with a perfect knowledge of the gospel and the eternities. A man who knew that He could heal His fallen brother wept.

I know that Josh and I will be together again. I know that his passing from this life does not make him gone from me forever, and I know that the time we lost here will be a mere minute when compared to eternity.

And that does not take away the pain of missing him now. That does not cancel out the grief I feel every day that he is not here.

So still I weep.

But because of Him, one day I will weep no more.

A nice kind of rant.

In the last few days, I have had talks with a couple of unnamed friends who have some unnamed, very difficult things going on in their lives. I listened to them, and felt with them, and loved them. I told one of them that I am always here to talk and would love to listen to her say what she needed to say if she wanted to. She did, and I was glad she shared with me, but she also mentioned beforehand that she didn't want to be insensitive to me.

I appreciate that very much, BUT

This is directed at absolutely anyone who wants to hear it. Please, PLEASE don't keep things from me if you don't want to because you think what I'm going through is hard enough. I'm not saying everyone out there wants to talk to me about things, but if you do, I don't mind at all. It is not insensitive. I still care about my friends.

I am so touched by people who tell me that they can do hard things because they see me do hard things. I am blown away by it, in fact, because I have never in a million years suspected that I would ever be any kind of role model for anyone. Especially now, when I often feel my world crumbling at my feet. .

There is no giant pot that holds all the emotion in the world. And because I'm using more than my usual share that means everybody else has to sacrifice a little of their share so that I can feel more than them. Nobody has to say, "Well Erica is being sad right now, so I am not allowed to feel bad about this thing going on in my life, and definitely not in her face."

My feelings do not take away from your feelings. My sadness does not affect your sadness. And I don't want anybody to think that I will not listen to their problems, or will listen, and just not care.

Dear, dear friends,

I care about you. I love you. I want to hear everything in your life all the time always. I just can't guarantee that you won't have to hear a little about me. :)

When things go back to normal

For everyone else, that is. 

Facebook messages and calls have become more of a rarity. People don't feel the need to tell me they're thinking about me as often. That's not to say that I think people aren't thinking about me. And they don't need to be sending me messages either. It's just a new phase.

I see my friends and family continuing with their lives. Moving forward because that's what life is. It doesn't ever stop. But I can't help feeling left in the dust. I want to say, "Hold on! Wait for me; I need more time. Can't we all just take a breather?" My loved ones can't just put a pause on their pregnancies or their new jobs or growing up. People won't stop getting married, and, as hard as I may try, I can't just stop them from living their lives. And while I don't actually want them to, sometimes I think I'm probably missing a lot.

It's been almost three months, and that just seems like a tiny, tiny amount of time for me. But so many things have happened and so much is going to continue to happen. And life will continue to level out for everyone around me. And life will continue to never be normal for me ever again.

My mom came into my room today and asked me why I was crying. I just sort of looked at her because really? "I mean is there something specific that happened, or is it the usual?" Well specifically, the love of my life is gone, and I miss him like crazy. That will never not break my heart.

My sweet Logan was blessed in church today by his uncle Nate. It was beautiful and one of the first big moments in my son's life. It was a happy moment and so devastating at the same time. Every major and minor stepping stone in his life will be riddled with bittersweet feelings of happysad crylaughs. I will always wish that Josh is there with us. And he physically can't be (although, I'm sure he will be with us in a different way). It just . . . It just sucks. A lot. And I'll never get over it, and it will always be there at the front of my mind. 

It's good to see people progressing. It's good to know that life goes on and that those I love can find joy and have adventures. I'm just not ready for it myself. 

But I wasn't ready for any of this. No amount of preparation would have made me ready. And life isn't about being ready. Sometimes it's not even about tackling problems that's you're not ready for. Sometimes you feel like you're trying to walk through the thickest mud. But you pick up one stupid foot and put it in front of the other. Thinking that as long as you don't stay still, you've reached your goal. You don't even know where you're going yet or how you're going to get there, but you're going. 

It doesn't matter where you are on the mountain, as long as you keep climbing.

Jefferino

Hello, friends! Welcome to this very special ONE HUNDREDTH blog post. How momentous and exciting! I feel like there should be fireworks. Here we are.

I'm not sure why or how they are ejecting directly out of Big Ben,
but everything about this gif pleases me. I dig it to infinity.

I knew I was getting close to this point, and I wondered what I could ever write about that would be important enough because it seems like a big deal for some reason. Fortunately I happen to have something really awesome to talk about, so get super ready! 

Let me tell you about this clown:

His name is Jeff and he is my brother. Technically, he's Josh's brother, but I mostly against the term "in-law"
these days, as I mentioned last time. I love all my brothers so much, but right now I just want to talk about Jeff.

I feel like, and maybe it's just me, that Jeff and I have a special bond. It's probably just me. He's probably reading this right now and rolling his eyes at how cheesy and dorky that sounds. (Hi, Jeff!) Regardless, I believe it to be so.

The first time I ever saw him was when I went down to the Robisons' for Nate's farewell. I say "saw" and not "met" because I never actually spoke to him or was introduced the entire time we were there. He hid in his room and I assumed it was because he was in high school and obviously way too cool for his brother's friends. I did get to meet and hang out with the two youngest brothers, and I liked them instantly. They were in middle school and easier to impress, I guess.

But when I started dating Josh, and went to officially meet the family, I was already a little worried about the oldest brother at home, and whether he would acknowledge my presence this time.

It turned out he was just bummed about a basketball game that first weekend, because he was super friendly and not at all scary like I imagined! He was funny and goofy and officially declared that I was okay after I was a little too sarcastic with him. It was a great moment of triumph.

It didn't take long for me to realize that this was a really special kid. Yes, he does have a great talent for driving you up the wall (don't even say anything about being old around him, or he'll speak in an old grandpa voice the rest of the day) and making lots of jokes, but it is astounding how kind and full his heart is.

He's just a really unique person in many ways. He is a star athlete and it is so fun to watch him play any sport. It was the most fun to watch all the boys play basketball together, with the older brothers helping the younger ones to develop their skills, while also just beating up on each other. Jeff told a story at Josh's funeral about the first time he beat Josh in a game of one on one. I remember that game. I didn't even watch that game, but I remember how upset Josh was the rest of the day. He was always crazy proud of his little brother, and all he had grown up to be.

At our wedding, we didn't have a big reception line because we didn't feel like everybody coming in needed to talk to a huge group of people in a family they didn't know. At the reception in Flowell, it was the same. Here was the line: Me and Josh, my parents, his parents, and Jeff. Nobody asked him to stand with us, but he wanted to greet everybody and talk to all of them. I don't even know what character trait this is, but it's something that always stuck out in my mind.

He has always been super nice to me. So have all the Robisons, of course. You can tell that he just really cares about people. If he feels his friends need him, he is there in a second, even if it's just to sit with them while they're sad. That's probably why every high school student I meet likes him so much.

I always feel really protective of him, and I brag on him probably way too much. (Did you know he was nominated to be a McDonald's All-American in basketball?) We have a super cool handshake, and he doesn't even make me feel dumb for thinking that it's super cool. I feel like I can talk to him about anything, and I'm always reminding him that I'm here for him if he wants to talk. I think he thinks I'm a lunatic when I say that, because he's like, "ok..." He's obviously really strong, and I probably need his help way more than he needs mine.

He loves Logan so much. It just warms my heart every time I see them together. Before basketball games, he would never come over and talk to us, because he was too busy getting in the zone, I guess. The last few games when we've been there, he rushes over to hold his nephew and play with him before he has to go get changed. If that doesn't seem special, I don't know what does.

He is the one of the closest people to the spirit that I have ever met. He is always amazing me with the things he says and the insight he has. Many people got to see that side of him when he spoke at Josh's funeral. Lots of people have told me since then how impressed they were with him, like they couldn't even believe an eighteen-year-old kid could have such a great understanding of the gospel. I was and always am so proud of him.

In October of 2012, President Thomas S. Monson announced that they were changing the age that young men could go on missions from 19 to 18, provided they were graduated from high school. As soon as Josh and I heard that, we thought about Jeff. We knew he would be excited, and as soon as Josh called him he said, "I'm ready to go." He's has had a one track mind since that announcement. What was a little frustrating for him was that he turned 18 in August right as his senior year was starting, so he still had to wait a pretty long time to go, but he's been doing everything he can to prepare and be ready to serve as soon as he is graduated. Anyone who knows him knows how ready he is to serve and spread the gospel.

Yesterday, Jeff was called to the Mexico, Mexico City mission. I can not stress this enough. I am so proud of him. I believe the people of Mexico are the luckiest people on the planet to be able to meet him and learn from him. While it makes me pretty sad, because I'm going to miss him like crazy, I know, and so does he, that going on a mission is the absolute best place for him to be. He's going to love it and they're going to love him.

Jeff, you are one of my heroes. You probably don't even know how much you inspire and teach me every day. I am so honored to call you brother. Thank you for being you.

A letter to my Valentine

Dear kind wonderful Josh,

Happy Valentine's Day! I love you and miss you so much and I want to tell you why.

I love your smile.

I love that explosive laugh you sometimes did when you thought something was really funny.

I love that you think I'm really funny and I love that you're really funny too.

I love that you were always willing and so happy to hold my hand. Even if you were driving your Jetta and had to steer and shift with one hand which wasn't super safe, but it was super cute.

I love that you gave it your all when you sang in the car and would sing sappy, sweet love songs to me.

I love that I didn't even have to ask you to do something, all I had to do is mention I wanted something done and you would do it.

I love how you were always kind and generous and thoughtful and just wanted to make me so happy.

I love that "I love you" was such a major part of all our conversations.

I love that we had this conversation many times started by either one of us:
1:I love you!
2:I love you too!
1:No you don't understand. I LOVE you!
Because it was so frustrating to have all this love and joy and light and wonder in your heart for someone and only have those three small words to convey it, like they're not enough!

I love that sometimes you got irritated with my family when you thought they were teasing me too much. (Sorry, family)

I love that you love my family.

I love that my family loves you. They love you so much they don't want to call you brother-in-law, just brother, because they don't want to put that distance between you.

I love that I feel the same way about your family.

I love that it's like we weren't allowed to freak out at the same time. If you were concerned about what we would do for money, I would feel do calm and confident when I told you it would be all right. And then an hour later, I would be like, "no wait, what DO we do for money?!" And you would totally calm me down and reassure me it would be okay.
These days I do a lot of freaking out, but I know you're making sure we'll make it.

I love how you were really nervous about being a dad, but only because you wanted to do a really great job.

I love how when you held our son, you could tell how much you loved him and how happy you were.

I love how you always looked at me like you were so lucky to be with me and like you won the lottery, which is crazy because obviously I was the luckiest one.

I love you, Josh. I am so happy to be yours.

Your Valentine forever and always,

Erica

P.S. I love you.
P.P.S. No, you don't understand. I LOVE you.

Logan Joshua

Let me tell you about this concerned little dude.

First of all, I was trying really hard to catch him smiling in this picture.

So far in his life, he is very uncooperative.

Other things I've learned about him:
Favorite activity: eating or sleeping.
Least favorite activity: not eating or sleeping not in someone's arms.

It's weird that there's suddenly this human being who didn't even EXIST eight weeks ago, and now he's my main homeboy. And I like him a lot more than most people, I think, just based on how I let him treat me. Like take any of these situations and pretend it's not a person I created, and they wouldn't be my friend.

Dude, it's three in the morning! How 'bout let's sleep? No? All right then.

Are you trying to have a crying contest with yourself?

I got pooped on again.

I got peed on again.

He puked on me again. Like I don't even care.

It seems like such a miracle that I love him so much, but really it's not even hard at all. He's the best.

One smile from that kid, and you forget how hard it is every day to be a mom. Also, just being a mom is a magical thing. It makes me feel so important that I get to take care of this beautiful child. This morning my dad was holding him, and I walked into the room past him, and, guys, he turned his head to follow me around the room. It makes me tear up just thinking about it. Sometimes he's crying a lot, and he calms down just as he gets handed to me. How could that not make you feel so special? He's the cutest little guy that I have ever seen, and I am the most important person in the world to him. That's insanity.

Last of all, he's a little piece of Josh that gives to live and breathe and grow, and I am almost positive he will be just like his dad. He already doesn't know how to hold still ever.

This face. Am I right?

Pursuit of Happiness

So I read that article that was written about the 23 things you should do instead of getting engaged before you're 23. I have been debating with myself for a little while about whether I wanted to write about this subject publicly. I am definitely one who doesn't like to voice opinions too strongly. In the internet world, I like to take the role of Switzerland.

Originally, the post upset me, because I feel like there was nothing on that list that is better than getting married. But in the long run it just made me think. A lot. And I feel like if I've really been thinking about it that much, then I should just say what I have to say.

First of all, I am not here to convince anyone to get married at any certain age. The thing about people is that every single one of them is different. Some people are ready to get married when they are 18. Some aren't ready when they're 45. And while I would encourage marriage to anybody who asked me personally, because I believe that it brings happiness that you can't even comprehend until you experience it, I wouldn't try to push anyone into it.

Marriage is about love and trust. It's about two people putting their spouse's needs in front of their own. It's about learning how to listen and compromise and be more selfless than you've ever been before. One of my home teachers once told me something that I have always really loved. He said that when you're dating, you're allowed to be selfish. You don't have to compromise your standards or beliefs, and you don't have to keep dating somebody if you have an issue. But when you're married, you have to be selfless. You have picked this person, and they are your person. It is no longer time to be picky, and you have to love that person for everything that they are.

Basically, marriage is hard. And it's a challenge no matter how old you are when you get married. There is never going to be a magical time when both people are perfect and happy all the time. What's important is learning how to fix the problems that come instead of just giving up on them right away.

On a personal level, my wonderful husband was taken from me less than four months after turning 23.

I try not to have regrets or blame myself for anything that happened or anything I did. I tell myself that it was Josh's time to go, and nothing that I could have done would have saved him.

But one of my biggest heartaches still comes from a regret I have.
I wish every day that I could have met him sooner.
That I would have started dating him sooner.
That we would have gotten married sooner.
That I would have had more time with him.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I know I will be reunited with my husband. I know we will have more time than I can even comprehend to be together. But I was really hoping for a lot more time in this life.

So like I said, if you don't want to get married before you're 23, then don't.

But no matter what the cause or the reason, if you have a chance in this life to be truly happy, then I think you should cling to that happiness as hard as you can. You just never know what life might bring your way.

Love Story

My first date with Josh was in January of 2012. We went to Zupas and his hand was broken and it was a really fun time. But most people already know the part of the story where I wasn't really into him yet. 

But I did slowly start spending all my time with him, and never actually wanted to tell him I wasn't interested because I didn't want him to start spending time with anyone else.

Yeah...  I obviously wasn't into him.

I'm an idiot.

After a lot of confusion and ridiculous denial on my part, we officially started dating on March 18th. It was a Sunday, and it was after a long talk with my bishop. Cause I'm cool like that. That day I asked him to date me while we drove to my brother's house to hang out with my family. See, he was already spending time with my family. Did I mention I'm an idiot?

That Friday we went to his family's house for the weekend. The last time I met his family was at his brother Nate's farewell, and there were a million other friends there, and I wasn't super important because I was just one of many random friends. But I remembered them being nice. This weekend was obviously way different because it was just me, and Josh had been griping to his family for months about this super cool girl who wouldn't date him and what was her problem. 

When we got to his house, nobody was home. I promise we were very well behaved, but he did kiss me for the first time while we waited for somebody to get home. Immediately after that he told me he loved me. Then he asked if that freaked me out too much, and I was like, "Not too much." But in my head I was like 

But I didn't run away so yay!

We spent the day with his family and it was super fun. They loved me because of course :) Just kidding! But I did love them. And I still do.

That night we stayed up late talking about the future and what we wanted out of life and our goals with just so similar. I didn't feel stupid talking about whatever came to my mind and I felt so comfortable. Right before we said goodnight, something clicked in my mind. This boy was my very best friend. He was the kindest, sweetest, best guy who treated me better than any boy I ever dated or any friend I ever had. He cared for me so much and I felt that every day, which is probably why I always wanted to be around him. He was not the kind of person I ever imagined falling for, but that's just because he was everything that I needed, and it was so much better than I thought I wanted. I suddenly realized that I loved him too. It was scary and seemed crazy, but I told him. 

His face was perfect. It was so happy and so relieved and it made me laugh a little bit, but it was just such a sweet moment. I had been really worried when he told me he loved me because I wasn't sure how I felt. But Josh and I still joke about how I was so clearly oblivious to my own feelings, because I am pretty sure I loved him a lot longer than I knew.

And then the next day I told him I wanted to marry him, and then it was his turn to be freaked out. Good times.

I wanted to share this story because I think it shows Josh's character. He was so willing to love and care for anyone. He made everyone feel so special because when he was talking to you, you felt like the most important person in the world. I don't even know how I got so lucky to have him fall in love with me, but I am so glad that he did.