Icecream and blocks...

Last week was beautiful, so me, Katie, and the dogs packed up and headed to Coldstone Creamery right here near our house. Yep, I got my usual - Chocolate Icecream with gummie bears. It was wonderful... and the part that I love the most is that they're NEVER out of chocolate icecream and gummie bears! Nobody likes it but me! Well, Katie likes it... but right now anything with sugar, or salt for that matter, is a 'treat' to her. I know, I'm a little over zealous about her eating only healthy food... for example, macaroni and cheese with turkey franks.

Katie and I get quite a bit of time together so I thought it only fair to share that she and Kyle have wonderful moments together as well... as you can see. Just before this picture, Kyle had forcefully taken all of Katie's orange blocks and added them to "his" tower... Katie then open-field tackled him and ransacked his masterpiece in order to retrieve every last orange block. She patiently built her orange tower back up again only to have her Dad at her again to let him have some back. We're (Katie and I) currently working with Kyle on sharing.

"It's over..."

Those were the words my Dad so vividly remembers hearing from his father at 12:15am, November 19th, 1997. My Grandma Berges had been diagnosed with brain cancer and it claimed her life in a matter of months once it took residence in her physical body. She was an energetic, loving, fireball of a lady that couldn't be tamed when it came to her grandkids or the places she and Grandpa decided to travel to. My Grandpa Berges followed her in death in June of 2002 - and oh, what incredible memories we will forever have of he and my grandmother together and a wonderful many more of him during the years after she passed. I continue to miss the two of them so dearly.

I have taken that pain and desire for their presence and have transfered it to Kyle's grandmother, Marian Schei. I have spoken about her so recently and I am writing this evening to say, once again, that "it's over". Grandma had been unconscious for the last two days and had received no nourishment - liquid or otherwise. She was given about 24 hours just yesturday evening minutes before I put Katie down for bed and Kyle and I sat down to enjoy our Valentine's dinner. She, being the stubborn lady she has always been, held on tight until between 5:00PM and 5:30PM this evening. In a moment she just stopped breathing and what I'm sure was a quiet moment for those in the hospital room was a moment where all of our lives outside continued as they had only minutes before - grocery shopping, going to get a movie to watch, carrying Katie on our shoulders, checking out... and then the phone rang.

You know, everything shifts at that moment. Everything is so quickly put into perspective - the grocery lady who seems in a bad mood is just in a bad mood and you don't have time to be self conscious about whether or not it's something you did on your way through her line... the price on take-out, which you so rarely indulge in, is surprisingly not a factor in what you decide to get... and the smile from the guy in the car that let's you 'go' even though it wasn't your right-of-way seems almost TOO nice but you don't have the time to think about it really... you just 'go' without more than a courteous flick of the wrist - without a smile or nod and maybe, just maybe, with a catch in your throat and a well of tears forming above each of your lower eyelids. NOTHING really matters for a few moments except that you exist and you just need to find your way through the crowd so you can get somewhere safe, shake yourself into reality, and begin the mourning/healing process.

Katie's in bed, Kyle and I have finished our take-out, and he is working on a Sudoku puzzle while I blog. We will sit down and watch a movie as soon as I'm finished. At least I think we will. It may surprise us when we sit motionless for a few moments how impactful the last couple hours have been - and we may find ourselves crying and talking until we can't keep our eyes open. That would be good, too.

Once again, God bless you, Grandma. Thank you for the moments we shared and I can't wait to share them with our son. I'm sure Katie will tell them best.

Valentine's Dinner

Kyle's artistic skills in the kitchen manifested themselves in the form of a sexy Valentine's Day dinner last night.

Heart-shaped Tofu baked in a mixture of butter, white wine, paprika, curry, salt and pepper laid over a bed of sticky white rice... a sexy red & white salad made of grapefruit, apples, watermelon, a blend of dried cherries, blueberries, cranberries and strawberries tossed with chopped mint leaves and chocolate shavings... and last, but not least - as asparagus is my favorite vegetable - asparagus baked in the same dish as the tofu and beautifully placed, almost ornamentally, on the dinner plate as a final touch.

You may not be familiar with tofu as a main dish for dinner - not to mention a Valentine's dinner! Yes, Kyle could have decided that the red and white theme he so carefully orchestrated would be more appealing had it delivered a delicately slivered piece of rare flank steak marinated in red wine, garlic and other tantalizing seasonings... but no, my husband knows me well. Although I don't dare limit the foods I enjoy to what could be a boring vegan diet, he KNEW that tofu could seduce me just as easily as a juicy steak if done properly. Boy, was he right. He also knew that a juicy steak is extremely PREDICTABLE! On the contrary, I couldn't have guessed what would be prepared for me had I all the ingredients laid out before me!


As I carefully finished off my salad, Kyle walked to the stove and flipped on the burner - having already placed a pot of cream on it prior to serving dinner. He sat down and we chatted about this and that for a few minutes before he got up, pulled previously prepared chocolate shavings from the cupboard and melted them with the simmering cream... yep, fresh strawberries and melted Hawaiian chocolate helped us finish the last sips of our white wine and wrap up our dining experience with nothing less than perfection.

Now, having invited you over for my husband and I's Valentine's dinner, I will escort you quickly out the front door and say that I won't be available for the rest of the evening. Katie's in bed, the dishes can wait until tomorrow and my Valentine is --- hmmmm... I think I know where to find him.

Hope your Valentine's Day was as special and memorable as mine.

The Visit

I think today was "The Visit" - and by that I mean that I do not believe we will see Grandma again before she passes away. Wednesdays are Kyle's day off and although every Tuesday evening we attempt to lay out our 'to dos' for the following day, those 'to dos' get shifted when it comes to spending time with Grandma Schei. (Photo to the right: taken September 2004 - 4 generations. Marian Schei, Daryle Schei, Kyle Schei, Catherine "Katie" Schei.)

You know, the original thought this morning of stopping by the hospital to see Grandma was quick - light almost - in the way it was suggested. At the moment it came out of my mouth I had no grasp of how much it would impact, most possibly, the rest of my life and my outlook on death. We parked, stepped outside into the beautiful, almost-Spring, sunny weather. It smelled fresh and crisp, but where the sun hit my body I felt that rush of warmth - on the broadness of my back under my jacket, across my face as I squinted against it, soaking through the layers on my arm as I walked around the side of the car. Kyle unbuckled Katie from her seat and handed me the diaper bag as she eagerly wriggled herself free. He joked with me about walking like I had a wooden leg since my leg had fallen asleep and I really needed to take it slow so as not to attract too much attention from others in the parking lot. We chuckled with each other, took each other's hand, and made our way into the Main Entrance of Stevens Hospital in Everett, Washington.

We stepped into the elevator and pressed '8' while the doors closed behind us. We spent the next few moments explaining to Katie where we were and who we were going to see. It's really been amusing - ANYTIME someone mentions 'great grandma' or 'grandma', Katie immediately follows it up with inquiries as to where "papa" is. We smiled and explained that we would not see papa today because he was sleeping after a long night awake with Great Grandma. (I think she has a 'thing' for both of her papas - interpretation: Grandpa.)

We made our way to Grandma's single-occupant room and walked in. She lay in her bed behind the half-drawn curtain so as not to be privy to everything happening just outside in the hallway - nurses darting back and forth, other visitors stretching their legs and gathering their thoughts about THEIR loved ones, the dogs on leashes prancing up and down the hallway during their weekly visit to the Oncology floor, etc. She is laying with her legs tucked under a pillow and her arms resting on her belly. She is thin. The bed is elevated just enough so that she feels interactive and a part of things although she spends much of her time roaming in and out of consciousness. Her hair is clean but sticks straight back from her forehead as many people have spoken comforting words into her ear while running their hand gently over her forehead and back over her head, or they've simply used it as a way of caressing her as she falls back asleep for what may be the last time.

The 'edge' is gone. Grandma's frustrations about her body and the cancer that has taken over, her irritation towards anyone who tries to care for her TOO much - which simply means more than her dignity can handle, her brash comments about anything or anyone... all have simply vanished and all that's left is a frail, meek, beautiful spirit that speaks oh so softly and soaks in only the most precious of moments. She keeps her attention on Katie and wants to make sure that Katie is close by - they speak to each other in another language about the baby in Mommy's tummy, about the stuffed bird that chirps when you squeeze it, about kissing the teddy bear, about holding hands, about ANYTHING!, and each of them thoroughly enjoys the company of the other - it's written all over their faces. I take a moment to step out into the hallway and speak with Aunt Barb who enlightens me to the latest information - the simple fact that Grandma's not so sure everyone ELSE is ready for her to go. The fact that Grandma needs to be told, "it's ok to go." My throat catches and I ask myself, 'is Grandma onto something? ARE we ready? Is Katie ready? Is Kyle ready?' I think for a moment to make sure I'm not about to tell my grandmother something that isn't true. 'Yes, I'm ready. We are all ready.' I walk back in with a different agenda than I had walked into the room with only minutes before when we arrived. I sit down at Marian's side and gently grab her hand, she turns her head ever so slowly towards me and peers at me from underneath her heavy eyelids. I think she knows I have something to say and before I have a chance to speak she says, "Krista." She licks her lips and takes a deep breath. She continues, "I don't have..." another long sigh and deep breath, "many hours to go." I smile with a peace that God is WITH ME. I tell her that I know and it's ok. Katie jumps from Kyle's lap and around the end of the bed into my arms - she wants to be a part of the conversation that Grandma and I are having. I affirm in her that Katie will be telling her baby brother (name inserted here because we told Grandma on Monday) all about her Great Grandma Schei. Katie points to my belly when I say her brother's name and Grandma smiles peacefully. With a few more shifts in conversation and events such as getting Katie some more juice, Grandma insisting that we get Katie a cookie (there were always cookies on top of Grandma's fridge that Katie was allowed to eat), and readjustments of the bed, Kyle and I switch sides so that I can sit in the chair to her left and he stands opposite me. Barb takes Katie to go look at the puppy roaming the hallway so as to give Kyle and I some alone time. This is it. This is the moment. My heart is racing and I pray for courage. How do I convey to Kyle what we need to be using this moment for? He doesn't know that Grandma needs his 'release' so I begin speaking to Grandma in hopes that Kyle will understand and assume the same posture. I whisper to her the 'release' that God lays on my heart and she listens so intently - a calm comes over her and I look at Kyle. "Kyle will you pray please." Kyle bends over Grandma's face and asks quietly, "Grandma, can we pray with you?" She responds with a confused look on her face and Kyle repeats his question. The moment she comprehends what Kyle is asking permission for she quickly lets go of my hand and takes Kyle's one hand in both of her's. She's surprisingly energetic all of a sudden and with such thirst she shakes his hand and says, "oh please! Yes! Please!" She stares at Kyle's face with desperation as she awaits the next few seconds before he begins to pray. She is so hungry for prayer! I've never seen her like this before! I begin to cry and Kyle smiles at his grandmother as he looks into her eyes and begins to pray.

It is an incredible time of communion with the Living God. He touched us. He was there with us. For a moment I thought that maybe everything would just stop. The machines would go quiet, the room would be completely empty, the sounds right outside the window would fade away and we just may get the opportunity to see God for a moment with Grandma. It was so intense for me. I will never in my lifetime forget what that felt like. We opened our eyes and Grandma sat in complete stillness. Peace. Calm. Katie's wonderful voice brought us so sweetly back to the earthly moment as she entered the room - perfect timing, Katie. Perfect timing. We spent only minutes after that prayer in the room with everyone. We caressed Grandma's hands and forehead and kissed her face for one last time, as did Katie. I walked from the room light as a feather and briefly chatted with Uncle Loren who was right outside. Down the elevator and back out into the fresh, crisp almost-Spring air. There was almost a gallop in my walk while at the same time a dense-ness about my spirit. Kyle, Katie and I followed closely behind a family with a young daughter who resembled, what I remember thinking, Katie may look like in a couple of years as we strolled down the sidewalk - long, blonde curly hair halfway down her back. She was wearing a little jean skirt, pink long-sleeved shirt with fur around the wrists and tennis shoes. I remember everything so vividly. The smell was incredible, the wind was chilly, the Subaru was so clean! (I do remember thinking that as we walked towards it), Katie was beautiful as the wind tossed her tuft of curls around her face, my husband was everything I could ever hope for, and I was a lucky woman for getting to meet Marian Schei. We got to the car and I opened my door. I spoke out to Kyle and broke the silence with, "Hey. Why don't you drop Katie and I off at McDonald's while you go exchange your IPod at Best Buy. That way she can play and we can grab a bite to eat while you're busy talking with the sales people." I got in and buckled my seatbelt while Kyle finished putting Katie in the car. He slid behind the wheel, closed the door and agreed that that would be a great idea. We drove away from the hospital with a new perspective on our day - at least I know I did.

God, thank you for our time. You are the God that gives life and you are the God that takes life. The memories that we share with Marian are only a sample of the incredible love that you have for each of your children. May we never see her again on this side of things but may she rest with You for eternity. God reveal yourself to her if you have not already. Give Kyle and I a peace that can only be explained supernaturally. To You be all the glory.

Amen.

Grandma Marian Schei

She is "Grandma" to Kyle and I and "Great Grandma" to our daughter, Katie. She is "Mom" to Daryle, Loren and Barb, Aunt to their cousins and a sister to many - I believe Grandma had 7 sisters! Close to two years ago, Grandma was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. At the point that we realized chemo was no longer an option, she was given a prognosis of 2-6 months - that was before I gave birth to Katie in September of 2004; before the need for round-the-clock care had been discovered; before the wonderful memories that we now share had been created.

Marian Schei spent most of her life growing up a farm girl in a rural town in North Dakota. Someone once said to me that there are two kinds of beauty - the beauty of a diamond and the beauty of wheat. Marian Schei is the beauty of wheat. She 'gets it'. Her wit and keen sense of humor have outlasted her physical health... just yesturday we sat with her in her hospital room. I sat to her right while she kept conversation with Katie and Kyle on the left. At one moment, Kyle had put Katie down and as Katie rounded the end of the bed towards me, Grandma - having just taken a sip of juice - let out a rather generous belch. Katie paused... looked up at me with her mouth closed but laugh lines appearing... she then began to giggle and point at Great Grandma saying, 'burrr!' I announced to Grandma that Katie had heard her and that she was teaching our children bad manners. Without missing a beat, Grandma said to me that she had assumed that had already happened and this shouldn't be much of a surprise. Kyle and I laughed and Grandma proceeded to burp, not once, but a handful more times. She claimed she felt much better afterwards.

None of us know if this will be a couple more days or a couple more weeks. As we left yesturday, we gave kisses and hugs without the ability to predict whether or not we would see her again.
I wait by my phone, as I'm sure my husband does while he's at work and as I'm sure everyone in the family is doing at this very minute. I spend my time praying for her comfort and her ability to emotionally handle what lies ahead. I beg God to reveal Himself to her and reveal to her the importance of her time here over the last 81 years. May she be able to accept the love we all have for her - and the love that has so strongly been established between she and her great granddaughter. May it bring her solace to know that the son Kyle and I are about to have will be a 'Schei' for the rest of his life - and will carry that name with dignity.

God bless you, Grandma.

"Lifer" Reunion

Hands down, these were two of the quickest days of my entire life. "Time flies when you're having fun" is an understatement for this last weekend. Time flies when you're communing with those who make you laugh even when you're recovering from the stomach flu (unfortunately, me - I've thought a lot about who deserved it more and Jenny was the only one I could come up with); time flies when your body automatically awakens at 7AM but the unfamiliar surroundings reminds you that your baby is at home with Grandma and you can slide back under the covers, cuddle with your husband and await that inevitable moment when your body physically aches from lying down too long; time flies when every corner you turn in the rental house there stands someone so intensely dear to you that the next hour in conversation seems only minutes and you walk away feeling fulfilled and more aware of who you are; time flies when every meal you eat is delicious and prepared with LOVE (thanks Judy Haferbecker for being an inspiration to us all); time flies when you wake up on Sunday morning and get choked up, almost pissed off, that breakfast is ready, the coffee is brewing and everyone is packing the last of their personal items into their bags and rushing down the stairs to gather once more and then within the hour say their 'goodbyes'... time flew, but we've already planned the next reunion for April/May out on Camano Island. None of us can wait.

The weekend began with a trip from Bellingham, two trips from North Seattle, a trip from Portland, and a trip from Whidbey Island... am I right, Jess? We gathered together at The Public House Restaurant after a tiresome drive through the dark and rainy weather. Geoff and Amy, Kyle and I and Holly all made our way from the rental house downtown to the pub where everyone would be showing up to grab a bite to eat. Two by two they sauntered in, shaking off their jackets, searching the restaurant, and inevitably, when 'the table' was spotted, the sweet smile of relief that we were all in the same place again. We casually got out of our chairs and warmly embraced each other with great anticipation for what the next 48 hours would hold for all of us. We traveled from The Public House to a smaller joint a few blocks away where we unintentionally split-up - girls/boys - and sat down catching up on what's been the latest news. Holly and Jenny played a quick game of foosball with some locals as did the boys - the rest of the girls and myself enjoyed our unnoticably uncomfortable wood booths and dove into a conversation on past times and how it all originally got started... you know, the "Lifers". We eventually headed back to the house and one by one headed off to bed when we could no longer keep our eyes open -- we had no idea the beauty that awaited us the following morning.


See, showing up to such a small coastal town well after dark - and not to mention the stormy weather - no one knew which way was up or down! Well, I take that back. Dusty and Jenny had been there before. We called their cell phone periodically on Friday evening seeking more specific directions on how to get to The Public House Restaurant - understand this was before they arrived into town - and the only information that Kyle repeated back to me when he got off the phone was 'down by the water', or 'go towards the water'... unfortunately, we had no idea if that was to the left or right of us!

We awoke on Saturday morning to this splended view of the coast and lighthouses in the distance. We had a large wraparound porch and an unobstructed view of the old buildings across the lawn. It was incredible. We spent Saturday preparing meals, taking walks in the cold weather, playing personal games of Sudoku on the couch in front of the fireplace, taking naps, drinking good beer and sipping wine. Our conversations rolled from one to another with ease - some more intense than others... and all with an element of sincerity that we rarely find in this world. One conversation began when one of the 'wives' entered our morning gathering with nothing less than a 'had sex last night' glow on her face and Jenny called it; another conversation centered around the fact that Dave and Dusty both cross their legs at the knees while sitting yet one looks much more feminine than the other while doing so - no names... by the way, your Norwegian pancakes were phenomenal!; others were fleeting conversations about personality traits and whether it was better to play a game together or sit and relax by the fire being introverted if one so wished to be, and whether or not we should have kids at the next gathering, and trivial things such as when lunch or dinner should be ready, and how each person adds such a unique dimension to the entire group - yes, during that conversation we spoke mostly of those who could not join us such as Scott and Darryl. We spoke of religion and Christianity; politics and world views; Seahawks and the Superbowl... overall, the day - the weekend! - was wonderful and all too short. I think everyone would agree.


Thank you to all of our friends who have always been, and will continue to be, a large part of Kyle and I's life. I know you will be the ones we raise our kids with - in fact, you will be the ones to teach our children the most hideous of habits YET the ones that we would entrust our most valuable possessions to! Pretty awesome stuff, wouldn't you agree? I hope that we are not the envy of, but the catalyst for, everyone who desires something real - would they be intentional and committed to those who have come to mean the most to them.

With love, the Scheis. See you all in a couple of months!