"the pursuit of easy things makes men weak..."

I may be physically distanced from "Operation Restoration" at home, but I am definitely not removed emotionally. I thought I felt as sad I could on Wednesday as I grasped my family's loss but then Thursday came. Shandon, Talli, Elise, and Annie all left for home to help, and I stayed behind. While I know my "cause" for staying here was "right" (clearly), I still felt that ache from being unable to help: I couldn't be a source of comfort to the weary, particularly to my parents and my little sister. 

By Thursday evening I finally got to talk to my mom. I had not spoken with her since Tuesday morning before the flood. As manager of "Operation Salvage" she was so busy and so far from having a few moments to talk. But then we finally spoke - I heard her voice - and oh how I cried. Why is it that your mother's voice brings relief beyond words, even to the point of tears? All she had to say was, "Jeni?" and I lost it. And I'm not going to blame it on being pregnant :) 

Poor woman. The last thing she needed was to bear my burden, but graciously and naturally, she did. She listened to me cry. She excused my apology for not being there for her and my dad. She consoled me with just a few words. She made me feel like all would be right again. She mothered me perfectly. 

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies" (Proverbs 31:10). 

My mother - trusty and true - is a priceless woman of virtue. 

So, I learned that I didn't need to worry - mom, dad, and Kimberlee were being taken care of. And from the pictures that I am being sent, it is more than clear that angels are surrounding them. Hundreds of people - family, friends, and strangers - are lifting some of the weight from their shoulders through incredibly selfless service, and for that our entire family is so grateful. 

While my mom has headed up "Operation Salvage," my dad has manned "Operation Remodel." Using hammers, axes, and pure grit, he and many kind volunteers have given the basement quite the makeover. Take a peek: 

The staircase

The living room

Elise's bathroom

The yellow kitchen, as we called it

Shandon's bathroom

Shandon's bedroom

The hallway

Yes, so much has been torn a part, but there is quite a bit being put back together.

Well, documents, letters, and pictures are being "put back together" as much as they can be. There is only so much to be done when dark red mud cements pictures and paper together, making them bricks of their own kind. But the miracle is that the effort has been worth it. Much is being saved.

As my family and our helping angels have worked at salvaging these treasures, memories have been recovered and reviewed. I can imagine the stories being told as another picture is displayed or as another journal entry is re-read...

That part of "operation salvage" has been most sweet...remembering.

Here is Shandon and Talli har at work in one of the many operating rooms

One of Elise's many journals drying out

Loving this original certificate of Annie's - I was the lucky recipient of this one. Isn't Annie's handwriting beautiful? If I was six months old when she honored me for my thumb-sucking (which I never knew I did!), then she was just about nine years old when she created this certificate. She is awesome. 

And the old pictures of my parents that have been found are wonderful. I may be biased, but my dad is so cute (I am obsessed with the freckles - please bless that Olivia has some freckles)...

And my mother is absolutely beautiful. My Aunt Sara made this "picture album," per se, for my mom around the time she married my dad. I am told that these plastic "books" were pretty neat :) 

The upper-levels of the house are decorated with table cloths lined with negatives and pictures for drying. The whole salvation operation is incredible.

But, of course, the best part of the "operations" has been the people that have come in to my parent's home and worked endlessly in their behalf. From family members (pictured below - cousins Branson and Chase with Shandon and Aunt Heather with Talli) to total strangers, the support has been overwhelming.

Actually, my mom said that her tears flowed the fastest in the first few days not because of the mess, but because of the people that kept coming to help..."angels," she called them, and selfless angels they truly are.

Food has been donated and meals have been brought to my family, along with the other affected families on our street. Homemade hamburgers flew off that portable grill, I'm told. Little Caesars has dropped dozens of pizzas by. So many have been more than generous...

How do you express enough gratitude? 

I love seeing glimpses of smiles and laughter!...it is so comforting. 

Some of the angel friends, Brock and Julie, and their littles, Thomas and Mason. Our family is so blessed to be surrounded by so many "wonderfuls," as I like to refer to anyone that is well, wonderful, as are all of these helpful people.

My youngest sister, Kimberlee, took a huge blow with this little crisis, as she is the last of us at home with our parents. Her tender, motherly heart has been weighed down with feelings of responsibility to ease some of the pain my parent's have felt, and bless her heart - feeling that responsibility is stressful to say the least. 

Luckily, she was given extra special relief in her time of playing "rescuer." Her dear friend dropped this package by full of goods that she loves loves loves to make her feel better...I am told that it worked. 

Honestly, this is all I know about these two awesome boys: "These are dad's favorite helpers, Sam and Joe." Look at their smiles! Aren't they great? These are the some of the angelic "strangers" my parents keep referring to. I'm positive my dad would have never connected with these guys if it wasn't for this crazy flood. Good things, good things...there is always a sweetness to trial.

One of my favorite rescued treasures is this quote that my mom wrote to my dad while he served his mission in South Africa. It conveys the nature of both my mom and dad: diligently faithful and impressively confident in the face of adversity.

Beautifully said, sweetest mother.

Thank you to all the angels that are lifting my family and helping us heal.
And ode to my amazing parents. You have always told us that we can do hard things.

Shall we not go on in so great a cause? The future is as bright as our faith...

the bitter and sweet of loss

I am 40-weeks-great-with-child, so of course I walked a long distance this evening...I walked for as long as my legs could go.

On this walk, as I came upon a park, I noticed a woman ahead of me slowly ascending a hill into the park. She was thin. She walked slowly. Her head was wrapped in a royal blue bandana. She had lost her hair. Cancer.

Fifteen minutes later, now up in a neighborhood above the park, a mother called out to me "Excuse me!" - she was looking for two small people, ages five and two. She had lost her children. Not frantic yet, but concerned, this woman hoped I had seen the littles that she was looking for.

Then, now on my way home as I cut through the park, I saw a sandal ahead of me in the middle of the sidewalk. It was small and black with an elastic that wraps around the heel so that the child who wears it can run run run without losing it...but this child had lost the sandal. I imagined a chubby little foot fitting inside of it as I passed it by, and I hoped that that small, squishy sandal-less foot felt okay.

I ache for these people and their losses, from the smallest sandal to the large loss of good health, to the seeming loss of loved ones (luckily the woman's two children were just around the corner and they weren't truly gone for forever :) ) 

Loss can hurt so very much. It has been on my mind today, and not just because of the glimpses that I had of it on my walk this evening. My beautiful home in Santa Clara is, in a way, lost. Amazing, unexpected flood waters poured into my parent's basement yesterday afternoon, along with many other homes on their street.

The thick, dark red, muddy water had no mercy. It broke through the windows and climbed over four feet up the walls. And then it sat there and it soaked its new surroundings. When it was finally okay for my parents to start pumping the water out, it took four pumps working for over four hours to drain the flooded floor.

Yes, it's just a house, it's just a "thing," but it's still our home. Seeing it so damaged and thinking of the lost treasures held within its cupboards and closets made me cry, and cry I did for a long, long while.

our backyard: an instagram via sister, Annie, from last night's newscast

our basement: iTouch pics via sister Kimbee

our basement living room: image via The Spectrum

The basement is being gutted down to the drywall. A lot of our home was lost.

And yet, a lot was saved. 

instagrams via Annie & our family friend, Brock

Like this classic shot of my sweetest dad.

(Okay so I am in love with that!)

More examples:

Most of our childhood picture albums were stored in cupboards just above the water's highest line - they were saved. My brother, Shandon's, mission journal was snatched up by my aunt - his stories and memories are saved. Letters that my parents wrote back and forth while my dad served a mission in South Africa weren't washed away. The telling of their love story, via those letters,  is saved.

And let's not discount that the damage done to our home was secluded to the basement. Two-thirds of our home is saved. That is an incredible blessing.

Things lost and saved - the situation is bittersweet, to say the least.

I think I've cried the "I-don't-feel-like-being-positive tears" all away now, and I'm feeling again so grateful that our family has experienced the loss of things rather than good health, for example. And we still have a house. We still have pictures and treasures and memories. Best of all, we still have each other. Our family is already closer. The Santa Clara community is even stronger.

This loss has already made us better.

Granted, when I see more pictures of our home and city that will come my way tomorrow, I will probably cry again, especially since I can't be there to help. But amidst those tears, I count on whipping out that happiest picture above of my father and hearing my mom's voice in my head singing, "We can do hard things!"...and again this confirmation of peace will come.

*More images of our home and our neighbors' homes here

**How to help: Santa Clara officials have established a charitable relief fund to assist the victims of this week's flooding. Anyone interested in donating can do so to the Santa Clara Flood Relief Fund 2012 at any State Bank of Southern Utah branch.