Team Karen

On May 10th there is a Walk for Lupus in Salt Lake City. My sister has already signed up to walk and has created a team. I am hoping to join the team and walk with her. Why are we interested in raising money for Lupus research? Well, she explains it better than I ever could. So here is what she has to say:

Karen

Some people just seem to ooze personality. They have come with an amazing set of qualities that destines them to change the lives of those around them for the better. One of those people was Karen. My mom's sister, my aunt. She was young and lived with my grandparents. The air seemed to swirl around her bubbling energy. Whenever the family met at one or the other house on alternating vacations, she dominated my world. She was effervescent, she was enthusiastic. She exclaimed over everything you told her as if you were a genius. She would settle in and make plans with us for all the fun things she wanted to do with us before the vacation was over. She was usually in Arizona and we were usually somewhere else: California, Colorado, Texas, finally Utah. She adored her nieces and nephews, and we adored her. I lived for every word she uttered and shadowed her everywhere.Once everyone was settled in, the gab sessions would commence. She would tell about people with weird names and even stranger personalities, not making fun of them, but obviously fascinated by their uniqueness. She would tell about the great place she found to buy ceramics or show projects from a craft magazine she liked, or show her latest crochet project. She would tell about a new kind of alternative medicine or the handwriting analysis someone had done on her. She would tell about relatives we'd never met, like her great aunt Irene who would carry a stool around to sit on whenever she got dizzy. She would pull out scrapbooks and show places she'd visited or shows she'd seen. At night, every night, she would write in her journal, and take your suggestions on things to add to the entry. She would flip back and read old things she'd written and talk about the family, about faith, about embarrassing experiences, and listen to everything you'd been waiting for months to tell her about. You could tell her anything, all your thoughts were safe with her. We would talk till we couldn't stay awake any longer. I know my cousins in Arizona could call on her when they were in scrapes. She would help you work things out.Visiting with Karen was like looking at a kaleidoscope of the universe and all it had to offer. There was food to be eaten and festivals to go to, or sales to rummage through or movies to go to. She was a blast. Visiting her was great, because she had a water bed and an old fashioned telephone and loads of books. She also collected dolls and hats. All kinds of hats. I was lucky she usually managed to be in good health when we had our visits. I'm not sure how she pulled that off. The hat collection started out of utility. Karen had lupus. She had to keep her skin out of the sun or she would break out. She suffered through a lot of illness and flare-ups throughout her life. She got sick soon after getting on the drill team in High School. Soon after, her family relocated to Chile so her Dad could build chapels there. She endured all kinds of treatments there at the hands of some of the leading specialists at the time, but even so, it was a miracle she survived. If the illness didn't kill you, the treatments just might. Lupus is an auto immune disorder where your immune system attacks your own body. Your joints, organs and connective tissues. It wreaks havoc wherever it chooses to attack. Treatments to suppress the immune system can make the patient vulnerable to all kinds of communicable diseases. People with this disease find themselves sick often, their lives disrupted. Often they find themselves battling for their lives. Karen spent her young adult years, the years typically spent going to college, dating and marrying in hospital beds trying to stay alive. She suffered all kinds of illnesses; icky things like shingles. The Karen I always knew no longer had functioning knees. They were static, slightly bent, and she had to hobble along with one step longer than the next, leaning from side to side as she walked, to get around. Since I worshiped everything about her, I used to imitate her walk. I was so proud when the grown ups would smile and say I was a little Karen. Karen just said, "I'm flattered you want to be like me, but when you are a teenager, don't be like me. Don't go to the dance and stand in the corner and glare at everyone and then go home and cry and tell your mom, "But I DID smile, mother!" And I listened. Later, she was offered an operation to replace her knee with an artificial joint. It gave that knee bending capabilities but it never healed completely, she had to bandage and clean the oozing scar for the rest of her life. I never saw Karen unhappy and rarely saw her upset. She never complained in my presence, but I know from her journals she did ever complain. By the time I was truly aware of her challenges, she had come to a good spot and was a powerhouse of wisdom. She had learned a thing or two. She didn't resent what she was going through or how much the disease limited her life. She would say things like- It's alright, we all have to go through things... but when I die, I will ask WHY? And when we are resurrected someday, then we will go mountain climbing together. She was patient. Very patient. She was open minded and willing to learn new things or look at things in a different way. She had the best sense of humor and didn't mind laughing at herself either. Some of her funniest stories were about herself. Of all the qualities I think of though, what most stands out is her love. She truly loved people. She was very open about what people were like, but very accepting of them with all their warts. There was no criticism or gossiping. She would take a chance on anyone, and was always willing to help anyone in need. She worked hard to help our extended family stay close together and organize fun activities for us to do. I have so many memories of doing things with Karen. I remember going to the opening of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom with her. We sat on the front row and as I sat cross-legged, she grabbed my big toe and just about cut off my circulation when the big rock ball almost ran over Indiana. The only thing I regret is not having more memories of Karen. The disease that helped purify her spirit took her body when she was only 40 years old. Her funeral was amazing. There were people overflowing out of the overflow rooms of the chapel. She had touched so many lives. Even the UPS man came and raved to my grandparents about how wonderful and kind she had been to him. I miss Karen. I miss her not being there to share with my family now, to know my husband and children. She would have enjoyed them just as much as I do. I would love to talk with her about the things I wonder about at my age. I would love to walk with her to raise awareness and funds to fight for a cure for lupus. But none of that will happen, because she's gone. So, instead, in her honor I'll walk without her and try to help others who are fighting this disease have a longer, better quality life. Someone else's aunt will be there to walk with her and love her children and be her friend. That's my idea anyway. Now all I need are a bunch of sponsors. And some walking companions. Anybody with me?

Here is a link to her website so you can join or donate if you are interested:

http://www.firstgiving.com/shellieespinoza

I have a few of my own memories to add:

When I was only 6 or 7 years old, I remember thinking about Karen when we were visiting in Arizona. I loved all of my aunts and uncles and they were all people I loved to spend time with. But I remember feeling like there was something extra special about my Aunt Karen. I was trying to explain it to my mom, and I said something like this: "Aunt Karen doesn't seem like just my aunt, she seems like my best friend." Later during that visit, at an extended family night, our family surprised Karen by having an evening to honor her--everyone shared stories and memories of her. I didn't understand why sometimes, during the sharing of stories and memories, many of my family members were in tears. When it was my mom's turn, one of the things she shared was what I had said, and I remember feeling amazed because I started to cry. I think that is when I first realized how much I loved Karen and how much she meant to me.

One time when we were visiting, a bunch of us cousins were playing together. One of my cousins was annoying the rest of us. I don't remember what he was doing, but we were all just irritated at him. We started to let him know how annoyed we were with him. Karen, who was sitting nearby, put her arm around the targeted cousin and said something complimentary about him. She wasn't angry or judgemental--none of us felt that she was chastising us. But the negative talk ceased immediately and we started playing together again. The example Karen set that day made such a big impression on me that it has stuck with me to this day. (Not that I always follow that example!)

When I was a teenager, I remember several times going shopping with Karen and being in the check-out line to make our purchases. I noticed how every time, Karen was so kind to the cashier. She would ask how their day was going and would be so interested in them personally. Sometimes the cashier would be frowning from a hectic, tiring day. But by the time Karen was through with them, they were smiling and feeling like a million bucks. She had a talent for that. She truly cared about people and they could feel it. Anyone that ever met her had a better day because she crossed their path. I have been in several lines of grumpy customers in slow check-out lines in my life since, and because of Karen, I have stopped and realized that the incompetent cashier is a person and when it is finally my turn, I smile and ask them how they're doing. They have my Aunt Karen to thank that I am not just another customer that glares at them because they have slowed me down.

I always just loved to be with my Aunt Karen. I would bask in the warmth of her love. Every one of her nephews and nieces felt like they were her "favorite." All of us in her extended family always knew that she was an angel and we are grateful for the time we had with her.

Rite of Passage

Daughter #1 finally did it--she got her ears pierced last Thursday. Her Aunt Rachael was going to take her and then I realized that she probably needed a parent/guardian signature and her aunt, being only 12 1/2 years older than my daughter, probably wouldn't be able to pass as her mom. After all, I look too young to be her mom, so Rachael didn't have a chance. :) That was O.K., because I really wanted to be part of the momentous event anyway. So, my daughter claims that it didn't hurt at all and she is very happy. She immediately called her friend in Arizona to let her know that she'd gotten her ears pierced. I wanted to have a photo showing both ears but the subject wasn't feeling too cooperative at the time so here you can see her left ear with it's shiny 14-karat gold and diamond (fake) birthstone earring. This was an early birthday present.

We're so excited that on April 1st, at 10 weeks of age, Lauren was finally able to go home with her Mommy and Daddy. Since we were blessed to be able to bring all four of our babies home from the hospital at two days old, I'm sure we can't even comprehend how happy her parents must be to have her home. Welcome home, little one!

This past weekend I had Alabama on my mind. Alabama is one of my favorite states. Funny that it starts with an A and ends with an A. I seem to have strange emotional attachments to states that start and end with the letter A. (Not counting Alaska. But with two out of the three--I'm in love.)

On March 29th, 1991 I returned home after serving an 18-month mission in the Alabama Birmingham Mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I think my mom is still a little bit miffed that I was crying when I got off the plane! It's not that I wasn't excited to see my family again--but I had just left a huge group of people that I loved like my family but I wasn't sealed to them, so no guarantees I would ever see most of them again.

During my final interview with my mission president, he told me that he was sure there would be some wonderful young man just waiting for me when I returned home. I know he thought this would make me feel better, but at the time I thought he was just plain crazy! Turns out, he was downright inspired. I met this wonderful young man the very next day--March 30th--at the Provo Temple of all places. Since all the members of my stake presidency were out-of-town, I hadn't even been released from my mission yet. I've been married to that wonderful young man for almost 16 blissful years now.

Seventeen years after returning home, I still think very often of the experiences I had, the people I met, and the things that I learned in Alabama. It was eighteen months of hard work and pure miracles.

In like a Lion...

You've all heard the phrase that describes March--"In Like a Lion, Out Like a Lamb"--referring to the weather. In our former Arizona life, I had to explain to my children what this phrase meant. They just didn't get it, because in Arizona March usually comes in like a lamb and goes out like a lamb. There were a few years that we might have argued that March came in like a lamb and went out like a lion--when it was way too hot too early. This year my children discovered that in Utah March comes in like a lion (snow) and goes out like a lion (more snow). There were some lamb days mixed in there, gratefully, but it definitely went out like a lion with snow and wind and frigid temperatures for the last two days of the month. So I'm starting to wonder where the people lived that coined this phrase in the first place. It's a great theory, but I have yet to experience the reality. Four days into April, and I'm still waiting for the lamb.

General Young Woman Meeting in the Conference Center

Last Saturday, my oldest daughter and I were able to experience one of the perks of living in Utah. Our stake was invited to attend the General Young Woman Meeting in the Conference Center this year. How cool that the stake we are living in was invited this year--our first year here! We were excited to go and it more than lived up to our expectations. It was so amazing to be inside the conference center--we've participated in so many meetings that have taken place there by TV or by satellite to our stake center in Arizona. To be there in person was incredible. All 20,000 seats were filled with young women, their mothers, and their YW leaders. All three members of the First Presidency attended. It was so cool when President Monson walked in--everyone stood and it became perfectly silent in an instant. The choir was amazing. The feeling there was overwhelming. I already knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us. But the spirit there testified again of how much Heavenly Father loves His children. It testified again of how much Jesus Christ loves us and that He is our Savior. And the leaders that He has chosen to guide His church and us at this time--they love us too. It was a great experience and I hope we get to go again before too many years go by.

Medical Mysteries

In the past two weeks I have had blood work, an ulcer breath test, an ultrasound of my gall bladder and an EGD (short for esophagogastroduodenoscopy) which have all come back showing that I am in perfectly good health. I don't have an ulcer after all and my gall bladder seems to be in great shape. That is great news, of course. I'd be thrilled except for the fact that I have this almost constant pain in my stomach/chest area that is still a complete mystery. Which makes it difficult to fix. I actually felt almost no pain at all for the entire day yesterday, which is when I had the EGD. This is when they put a tube down your throat with a tiny camera on it so they can examine your esophagus, stomach, and the upper part of your intestine. In order to do this, they give you a sedative that mostly knocks you out and to you it feels like you were totally unconscious because it has an amnesia effect. So I don't remember anything that happened from shortly after they gave me the drug to about an hour later and the following few hours are pretty fuzzy as well. It causes you to be very dizzy, unsteady, groggy, and sleepy for several hours and they say not to drive or make important decisions for 24 hours afterward. So I guess taking that drug every day wouldn't be a very convenient way to manage pain--but it sure felt good to be pain-free for a day.