Dear Maggie,

One more thing. Last night we were at your uncle Nathan's house for an open house for your cousin Zach who is leaving soon to serve a mission in Japan. We were in and out of the living room and the backyard all night. There were people in both places and you went back and forth. At one point you and I and daddy and a group were in the living room. I was talking and you were walking around from person to person. At one point you went to the screen door and started playing with the handle. Unfortunately you turned it enough that it unlatched when you weren't expecting it, but when you were leaning on it, and you tumbled down the concrete steps below. We gasped and ran to get you, crying at the bottom. I expected to see blood. I expected a big bump on your head. I expected something terrible. The people outside said you rolled down sideways, rather than head over heals as it seems would have been most likely considering the way you fell. You were crying but calmed fairly easily and this morning the only evidence was a little red mark on your cheek. Today we were back at uncle Nathan's house and aunt Militza asked if you had any bumps or marks from your fall last night. I said only a little red line on your cheek that I assumed was from that. She replied, "Someone must have been watching over her." I nodded, thinking it was just something people say. And then I was overcome by a different feeling. Aunt JuJu. I saw the realization of my same thought cross Militza's face and she said what I was thinking, "Maybe it was Joydell." I nodded and smiled but inside I was so overcome with emotion that I had to turn away and just experience it for a moment. I can't say for sure baby girl, but I know that fall could have and should have been worse than it was. And I know that your aunt JuJu loves you and would love nothing more than to help you from the other side. And me. And what better help than keeping my baby girl safe?

When aunt JuJu was sick and we knew she only had a few weeks left someone told your aunt Gwenna about an experience they had of dying and being brought back to life. She told her about what Heaven was like and made the comment that Joydell would be able to help us from the other side. She said that throughout our lives we would notice times when she helped us. I told Gwenna, when she shared this story with me, that Joydell would love that job and that she would make an awesome guardian angel. She loved people so much and always wanted to help them. Anticipating how much I would miss her I loved the idea of her still being with me, watching over me. And having a guardian angel seemed like a small "bonus" to come from something that I otherwise found to be horrible, and rotten, and heart-breaking and so unfair. I hated everything about the thought of her being gone from this Earth with me still on it. The thought that she might watch over us felt like a consolation prize. But a comforting consolation prize.

Baby girl, I miss your aunt every moment of every day. And I think every day about how much she would enjoy seeing you, and the rest of us. And how she would have smiled hearing you start to put words together -especially words like "more cake". I know she loved me and was proud of me. She told me often. And I heard her tell other people when she thought I wasn't listening, so I know it was true (not that I would have doubted it otherwise, but it was special to me to hear her say it). I know she loved and adored you because I saw how her face lit up every time she saw you, and when she didn't know I was looking. She had a hard time letting people fall, figuratively speaking. She would have saved them every time if she could have. I think that last night on the stairs, for you, she did. I have been thinking, for whatever reason, about her hands a lot lately. She had beautiful hands, with long slender fingers and well manicured nails. And they were so soft. As everything in her was getting so sick and aging beyond her years her hands remained soft and beautiful. I miss seeing them and holding them, which is probably why I have been thinking of them. I love the image of those gentle yet strong hands catching you and shielding you as you rolled down the stairs (in a way that was way to gentle to have been done without some sort of help I realize now). And I love the thought of the gentle smile on her face as she left you for us to pick up and comfort, knowing she had been a help. That she had protected you. And I love the thought of her being with us even when we can't see her. 

Baby girl, I know that she won't be able to protect you from every fall, but you have one of the best guardian angels watching over you. I wish she could watch over you here. Where I could see her and talk to her. I don't think I will ever stop wishing it. But I guess if this is the consolation prize, it is a good one. I know I don't see the eternities clearly now, and one day when I do I will probably understand that it is actually not a consolation prize at all but a beautiful part of the grand plan that it so amazing I couldn't comprehend it now anyway. Someday Joydell will be able to tell me all about her own experience with it and what was happening for her while we were all feeling left behind. I'm not eager to die, but I look forward to having that conversation with her. In the meantime, as we muddle through here below without her, I pray that we will be able to feel her gentle interventions in our lives. It just makes sense. She loved us. And we loved her. And families are a forever kind of deal.

Love,
Mama

Dear Maggie,

You turned 18 months yesterday. You are getting so big! You are starting to string words together in to sentences. You do it out of the blue and I am always caught off guard by it. Like today, when you said, "More cake" after you finished your first piece and looked down at your empty plate. I love it! Yesterday  I was putting you in your car seat (which you hate these days!) and you turned to Max and started babbling away. I looked at your Tata and said, "It is going to be fun when we can understand what she says." Baby girl, don't grow up too fast. I love you just the way you are, and I am savoring every minute. But would love to hear what you are thinking and it will be fun when you will be able to tell me. Until then I will enjoy your random sentences, one word requests and explanations and every babble that escapes your lips. I love you baby girl!!!!!! So, so much!

Love,
Mama

Dear Max and Maggie,

Eight weeks ago today, on May 19th, your beautiful Aunt Joydell passed away. On August 28th, 2009 she was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. She had had breast cancer 10 years earlier. By the time they diagnosed her the second time it had already spread to her lungs, liver and bones. They said if she did nothing she would live about 6 more months. She fought it as hard as she could and lived for 3 years and 9 months. I am so grateful she fought it for so long, not only because I got more time with her, but because she got to meet the two of you and the two of you got to meet her. It breaks my heart that you won't know her and that she won't be there as you grow up. But you did know her, and she knew you, and that means a lot to me. It makes me sad to think that if I have more kids they will not have been as lucky as the two of you in that way.

She adored the two of you. She loved it when you would come to see her. The weekend she died I was scheduled to be out of town at a conference. Four weeks before the conference she transitioned to hospice and they gave her about three weeks. So I canceled my conference. It was hard for me to do. I was supposed to present. And I had been planning for it for a long time. But I am so glad that I did. Even though they told her three weeks at the most when they transitioned her to hospice and it had already been four weeks we were surprised when she died so suddenly. I know that doesn't make sense, but she was always beating the odds. And they had told us that she would get more and more tired and her memory would get foggy and she would get confused and eventually she wouldn't wake up. She was getting more and more tired, but her memory was still sharp. And in the end there was no coma. She died very suddenly on a Sunday. She had just woken up and had gotten out of bed. And then she said she was hot and started to panic and then quickly and gently she slipped away. Just like that. No coma. I was so grateful I hadn't left town. I felt strongly inspired to stay home that weekend. I believe that God knew the timing of her death. And if I had been gone I never would have forgiven myself. The two days before she died were filled with such sweet memories. On Friday I picked you guys up from Nicole's and then we drove to see her. When we arrived she was sitting on the couch in her room (which was a little unusual as by that time she spent most of her time in bed) and she saw us, or rather you, before I saw her. I heard her say, "Look who's here!". She was so happy to see you. You brightened her day. Unfortunately the two of you weren't generally so friendly with her, partly because you are so little and I think partly because she was a little overwhelming to you with her oxygen and the noisy machine and her bald head. But she understood and loved to watch you and was extra happy when you let her hold you, which you sometimes did. Maggie, you loved her cat. It was as big as you and you followed it around, much to its disliking. Max, you usually headed straight to the back yard. I think that is what you both did that day. This is why the next day was extra special. That morning we went to a company party for your dad's work. It was at Boondock's. With your arcade tickets Max bought himself a toy airplane and a green whistle for Maggie. After the party we went to visit Joydell. Max, you ran to the backyard with your airplane. You were flying it around when Joydell called to you from her bedroom window. You showed her your plane and talked to her through the window. This was so special to me because you had done this once before (talked to her through the window from the backyard) and she always talked about it. It was a good memory for her. I was so happy to see you talk to her and especially in a way that was similar to an early interaction that was so special to her. Then, to make it even better, we went in the house to show her your airplane and you showed it to her and talked to her for a bit. Maggie, you showed her your whistle and I told her how impressed I was that you could play it and she laughed that with time it would be less impressive and more annoying. (She was right!) It was such a simple and yet wonderful interaction that day. We stayed for several more hours, ate dinner, watched TV and played. And then we left, thinking we would see her the next day. And, honestly, that she would live for a couple more months. But the next day, while we were at church, she left this world and entered the next.

I miss her so much! I wanted to record this interaction for the two of you right away, but it has been too hard. I am so sad. I am grieving. I have not been a very good mom to the two of you. I try, but I so often feel so sad. I know that she wants me to be happy. And I know that she was happy that I had the two of you. And I know that she loves you both very much.

Before she died I told her that she was would always be welcome in our house. I don't know exactly how it works after people die, but I imagine they miss us sometimes and I wanted her to know that she could come and visit anytime. I knew for sure that I would miss her. I wanted to somehow know that she was still around. She and I talked about ways she could let me know, but we couldn't think of anything great so she just said that she would think of something. There have been a few times when I have wondered if she is with us:

Maggie, for her viewing in Salt Lake I put you in a pink dress that I referred to as her party dress. At the viewing I said "Maggie, Aunt JuJu would have loved your party dress." Upon saying it you started to tell an animated story that you had told Joydell a week before she died. We weren't sure if it was about the cat jumping up on the couch or you jumping on the trampoline earlier that day, but it involved lots of hands in the air and babbling. You told the story to Joydell more than once, but you would only tell it to her. There at her viewing you told it again.  (By the way Maggie Joy, I am so grateful that I gave you a middle name after her. After she died I started calling you my little Joy. I know you are two completely separate people, but it comforts me to have a piece of her in you, if only in her name.)

Max, a few nights after she died you wanted to watch a movie. She had given you Toy Story and you watched it now and then but hadn't watched it for a long time. I asked you what you wanted to watch and you kept saying "Um..." and so I started making suggestions: Might Machines, Pingu, Shaun the Sheep. All your favorites. I got the sense that you were overwhelmed or distracted. Then you said, "Buzz and Woody". It was weird to me that you chose that. I wonder if Joydell was next to me suggesting Toy Story while I was suggesting all the other things. But you didn't usually call it Toy Story, you called it Buzz and Woody, so maybe that was adding to the confusion. Could be coincidence, but who knows.

Max, after her funeral we went to Grandma and Grandpa Powell's house. All the family was there. After dinner I took you in the house to take a bath. I was suddenly overwhelmed by how adorable and amazing you were and so I said something I said to you often, "Max, I love you so much! Who else loves Max?" Always you would first and Daddy and Maggie, in different orders. Then you usually went to Lucy and Meg. But immediately you said, "Aunt JuJu loves Max." I was caught off guard. It took me half a second and then I responded, "Yes, Aunt JuJu loves you very much." You never mentioned her name before that and you haven't since. I talk to you about her and you know who I am talking about. But you never initiated it except that one time. It's true that we were talking a lot about Joydell that week, but I can't explain it away with that. We were talking about Joydell a lot for a long time. I think maybe she was there. With us in that bathroom. It makes sense to me that she would have been. And that if she was you, so pure and innocent, would have seen her and not known to think anything about it. I really think she was there. Even if she wasn't, I was amazed and touched that you so clearly knew she loved you.

Max, this past Friday was a really hard day for me. I was exhausted from working a lot and not sleeping a lot. And on top of it the grief that ebbs and flows was particularly high that day. It was one of those days when I could cry at any second and had to use my energy to keep myself from crying. I had even gotten teary at work. I was visibly distracted apparently and when a friend I work with asked during rounds if I was okay I got teary and knew that I couldn't say I was fine. I said that I was having a grief day. She understood. Her dad died not too long ago. It was a hard day. I picked you and Maggie up from Nicole's house and we came home. We ate lunch and then we were just playing and relaxing. I put a movie in for you. Oddly, again, you had requested Toy Story, which you really don't do often. I was laying on the couch with you next to me and I dosed off. When I woke up you were standing on your chair above me with the head lamp Joydell gave you on your head and the back scratcher she gave you in your hand. And the movie she gave you was playing in the background. I suddenly realized she was everywhere. That in itself was comforting: even though she is physically gone from us she remains present in memory and in her influence. She lives on in us because we are changed from having known her. This was really comforting to me and gave me a little pick me up, enough to get through the day. I wondered at that moment if she was telling you to play with all the stuff she gave you. It seemed weird that everything you were playing with at that moment was connected to her. But who knows. Then this morning you were playing with the truck she gave you for Christmas. You haven't played with it for quite a while because it was put away in a box that you haven't pulled out lately. At that moment it hit me more strongly that you always seemed to be playing with her stuff lately. And then I wondered, is this how she is telling me she is here? Is this the sign? I can kind of picture it, when we were discussing the sign she could give as one of the options. "When I want you to know I am there I will direct your kids to play with something that I gave them." Maybe it's just coincidence. But maybe it is not. And I prefer to think that it isn't. I prefer to think that she is still with us and that you are so close to the veil that she can communicate with you in a way that seems perfectly normal to you.

Dear Max and Maggie, I don't know for sure if she was there when the above things happened. But I do know for sure that she loved you and that you will get to meet her again in the next life. And I believe that she will be watching over the two of you and the rest of our family. I believe that she is now our guardian angel. And what an amazing guarding angel she would make!!!! She knew how to love fiercely and I imagine that only gets stronger in the next life. It breaks my heart that she is not here with us, and that you two will miss out on a lifetime with her. But I am so grateful that you got some time with her. When I was pregnant with Max I used to cry thinking that she would never meet you. And then not only did she meet you but she got to meet Maggie too. What a blessing!!!!

Here are some of my favorite pictures of the two of you with her. Looking at these pictures you can't deny the love that was there.