While I was dragging myself and the kids out of the house to ride our bikes to the library, Mom woke up in Utah feeling breathless. After a shower and a trip to the store, Dad measured her pulse at 120. They rushed her to the hospital thinking she was having a heart attack. It's not a heart attack, they say, but four clots in her lungs. Clots that if they'd been in a larger artery could have taken her from this world.
As I was scrolling through my contacts on my cell phone to call Dad again today to see how Mom is doing, I scrolled past Claudia's number. I still can't delete her number after almost seven months. Losing two mothers in one year would just be more than I could handle. Life is too fragile and I live too far away from my mother. And all I can do for now is useless things like blog and do dishes and plan vacations and wait. It's a cold, hard world.
Nathan, Joseph, Isaac, Kaleb & Keaton
And to Mrs. Caudle who gave Russell the structure and nurturing he needed to blossom academically and socially this year, whilst having a baby too! (sorry, no photo of her at this point).
Isaac dressed up as three different characters so he could play more songs.
Russell brought his usual energy to his playing and dancing. . . .
In the last month I've entered the realm of being an American "soccer mom," and I must say I'm exhausted. We are doing swim team for two hours every single weekday--one hour for Isaac, 45 minutes for Russell--while Graham and I watch in the heat with all the other moms. Meets start at 6 am EVERY Saturday and end around 1 pm. The swim team pretty much owns us, and I'm ashamed to say I mostly signed up because everyone else was doing it. Though I often make it a point to do the opposite of the status quo, this time I caved. We do usually ride bikes to the pool instead of the mini van, and I do my very best to not get too competitive about the whole thing, but I can't escape the fact that I have become the soccer mom. We've eaten our quota of hot dog dinners on-the-run for the next century. My house stays cleaner because we're never in it. I sit around with all the other moms and discuss sales at the store and how we get our kids to do work. I now understand why the soccer mom stereotype includes SUV's, Clorox wipes, fast food, and junk food snacks.
The Sunderaj Family at Lakshmi's baptism: Vanita (adopted), Poojah, Margaret, Lakshmi, Shiva, Sunderaj
Good news: I didn't die. I've regained the use of my hands and legs and gotten back to work. It's been ages since I've laid in bed all day and read a book . . . I read The Book Thief, and loved it. It had the same quality as The Invisible Wall with all its hopefulness in a small community during a war, but was better written, with lovable, colorful characters and the intriguing narrator--Death. "I am haunted by humans," Death says. Ooh. He's haunted by us because despite it all, so many of us never give up hope, and we cling to each other's stories to borrow hope that may be lacking in our own stories.
I knew Paula for a small slice of her life, what turned out to be the final slice. She passed away October 19, 2007 while we were in India. I wish I had known her sooner. But though we walked together on this earth for a brief few years, her affect on my life will be eternal.
Written October 20, 2007
I think I first met Paula when she came to my house for a homemaking project we were doing with some ladies from church. I think we were making bath salts. She was so excited about what we were doing, and stayed late making her creations just right and chatting with all the women there. I remember her raving about the refreshments I’d served and scribbling down the recipes on scraps of paper she pulled from her purse.
I remember walking out with her to the driveway that day and her exclaiming about how beautiful my overgrown garden was. She loved the purple Wandering Jew pIant that grew like a weed and I couldn’t get rid of. I broke off a piece and told her to plant it in her garden and watch it grow like a weed for her. She did, and many months later I remember her showing me the results with delight. I felt a little cheated at that point, like I’d missed the joy of Wandering Jew, while all along Paula had been relishing it. Then I felt grateful to Paula for helping me appreciate and see the beauty in what was already there in my life. Paula always helped me see more beauty and nobility in the simple things of my life, in the world around me.
Thus began a short but meaningful relationship between us. I was assigned to be Paula’s visiting teacher with Rebecca. Rebecca and Paula were both animal lovers and Paula once brought out her pet tarantula spider for Rebecca to hold. Yikes! Paula loved all animals and treated them with such respect and reverence, like they were truly her friends. We had a pet duck while we lived in Leander named Martha. When we went on vacation, we couldn’t figure out who would be willing to babysit our needy duck. When we asked Paula, she was more than willing to do it. We left Martha with Paula several times, and she loved her like a grandchild. She took pictures of Martha and delighted in her splashing in the water or eating lettuce. I remember her showing us one of the photos she took, saying, “Look, she’s smiling!” We couldn’t see it, but I think Paula definitely could. She loved all living things, truly appreciating and empathizing with all of God’s creations.
Paula always made me feel like I was making her day by visiting her or giving her a ride, but it was she who brightened my day. Paula was nearly old enough to be my mother, and I felt like I could always talk to her that way, or perhaps even more comfortably because I knew she wouldn’t pass judgment or try to solve my problems for me. She would just listen. I had plenty of friends in Leander my own age with toddler and preschool children like mine, but I loved spending time with Paula, perhaps because she was so unlike me. So much older, so much wiser, so open and loving and forgiving. She had perspective, and as she would tell me stories about herself as a young mother and wife, the mistakes and successes she had, I learned so much about what matters and what doesn’t.
Once she asked me to come over and help her go through her clothes and clean out her closet. I got a babysitter for my kids and spent a wonderful afternoon with Paula seeing the many facets of her life kaleidoscope before me in her clothes. Every dress, every blouse had a story. This one Ted had bought her, so she could never get rid of it. This one she had bought from the Goodwill and had intended to make over into something different. This one she had worn to a special government event when Ted was a judge. This one she had worn to work. Some were flamboyant, some were practical. We tried clothes on, and she gave me a few that I oohed and aahed over. She didn’t get rid of too many clothes that day, but I got to know more about this woman I loved and admired and we spent a beautiful afternoon together sharing pieces of ourselves, rediscovering ourselves.
I loved Paula’s hair—gorgeous curly blonde hair. I have naturally curly hair too, but I could never get mine to look like that. Once I remember asking her how she made it look the way it did. She said with a laugh that she just never washed it! Bingo. I tried washing mine less often too, and it did a similar trick, but never quite the quirky curliness that Paula had.
I loved Paula’s purse. There were always all sorts of things in her purse, and she was constantly searching for her glasses or fishing out a scrap of paper or an old receipt to jot down a new idea, a recipe, or a quote she had heard. She was always interested in everything and everybody, always eager to learn something new and improve herself.
She had so many talents. I still have a beautiful beaded bookmark she made me, and I remember many beautiful items all over her house she had crafted herself. I watched her several times whip up a meat-and-potatoes dinner for her family, including the athletic, hungry Daniel, in no time. She could make houseplants grow like nobody I’d ever seen, I think perhaps because she talked to them! She was generous almost to a fault and was always willing to give of herself to everyone.
She was fiercely loyal to her children, and I always admired how she treated them like adults. She listened to everything they said and responded to them in a thoughtful, respectful manner. When I brought my three preschool and toddler boys to her house, she was always so attentive to them, always careful to keep them safe, and always willing to listen to and delight in their endless questions and stories. She was reflective about her children and mine, taking time to think about and articulate their special gifts and do what she could to help develop them.
Paula had the faith of a child, the heart of a child. She believed in God without a doubt and had a calm assurance about her when she faced trials because she knew that God was with her and would make it all okay in the end. She could see the small miracles in her life. When she prayed for something, she fully believed she would receive an answer, and then she would notice the answer come and share how in God’s own merciful way and time her prayer had been answered. We all pray for things, but how many of us take the time to wait for and notice the answers? She had her share of troubles and heartaches in her family and with her mortal body, maybe even more than her fair share, but she held on with all of her might to her eternal family. I love and admire her for that.
The last time I saw Paula was this summer when I came back to visit Leander. We had a girls’ night out at the local Mexican restaurant and we stayed up into the wee hours of the morning in the parking lot talking. Paula was excited about her new job as a pharmacist and talked with pride about Daniel’s scholarship, Echo’s passage into adulthood with a boyfriend and a job, Jackson’s hard work at school, and Ted’s success at work. She was eager to hear about my adventures away from Leander and I felt so embraced in her love and support after my long absence.
Paula had a great dry sense of humor that would sometimes catch me off guard. But she also had a nobility about her too, a sense of propriety that I think in part came from her generation that knew better how to respect people and do the right thing, not the selfish thing like my generation does so well. She sacrificed much for her family and much for her faith in God. May she be blessed and remembered for all that she was, for all that she did, for all that she felt, for all that she loved. I love you, Paula. I miss you.
Recently I heard an amazing woman named Nancy Messege-Downing speak at our church women's conference. She had this poem handwritten in sweeping strokes on a giant paper at the front. After talking about how tangible blessings we enjoy sporadically (car, job, education, money, etc.) pale in comparison to eternal blessings which anyone can enjoy anywhere, anytime (ordinances, covenants, prayer, etc.), she turned to the poem. She analyzed its meter, diction and understatement to show how finding or creating a mathematical structure to the ups and downs in our lives can bring peace:
And then, of course, there was the all-you-can-eat Blue Bell Ice Cream after the race!
The first race was the Kid's 1-Mile Run. Isaac and Russell were all set to go, and they bravely walked through the pouring rain to the starting line as thunder and lightning struck in the distance. Russell had the bad luck of standing in a fire ant pile at the starting line, and burst into tears at the starting bell as they attacked him! We brushed them off and he bravely set off running with Rich by his side to catch up to Isaac (who had waited for him). They finished together at 11:01. So proud of my boys who are best friends that stick together and work hard. 
I set a New Year's Resolution to train for a 5K, and slowly and sporadically I have gotten to a point where I can at least jog that distance VERY slowly. 
So while the kids bundled up in the car with Grandpa, Rich & Ellie as the rain pelted outside, Katie, Dave and I decided to go ahead and face that race.
And we finished it! I jogged the whole time with squishy sneakers, making mental notes at several points of where I could run for cover if it started to hail. At a few points the visibility was so bad that I wasn't quite sure how much farther I had to go. But I just kept on plodding along and finally crossed that finish line. I came in 276th place, but I finished and had a blast running in the rain! Wahoo!
And that's all for now, folks!
