In the Shadow of her Wings

 Dear family and friends,

Thank you for your loving patience, in receiving a letter written on the heels of our returning from Washington for a gathering to celebrate Carma.  Catching cold and catching up are a blessing in disguise.  It means celebrating longer, and holding on to the things we love.  Namely the ONES, we love.  Thank you for being some of them. In the meantime, we feel blessed to remember a blessed gathering.  We are blessed to belong.  Thank you for caring.   

Dear family and friends,                                                                                 8 February 2025

As long as I can remember, an older sister has delighted to “own and bless” me.  

                            

Since I got to scale the crib at a young age, to work to catch up with fun and antics of an older sister and brother (born all of us within three years) before being joined later by two more brothers.  Stories I have heard about egg fights in a Volkswagen, stomping cereal, and flooding the bathroom (all Three Musketeer Adventures our mom would relish telling and we would listen in rapt attention.) Early moments were ever overshadowed with someone I knew loved and wanted to teach and encourage.  The road ahead was lit by a trail blazer sister and tagalong brother. 

 At age two, at a doctor's checkup, David was approached by the doctor in attempt to make friends by asking about his family, "Do you have any sisters?"

David:  "Yes, I have two!"

Doctor:  "Do you have any brothers?
David:  "No, but my sisters do!"

Then we got two more brothers. 

Even though the boys outnumbered the girls, enough confidence emanated from our oldest sister that that did not matter much.  Carma imagined and we all were circled in a woven dream. 

In late 2024, we learned our sister had sustained a knee injury.  Being moved from an assisted living center where she had lived for several years, her next venue became a hospital and then a skilled nursing facility.  Our eldest brother David

spent hours her final week, drawing ice skating ponds,

 reading testimony books and videoing siblings and cousins and close friends. 

                                          

Should we come? Friday 24 January, came the call.  Kidney function was decreasing rapidly.  Could we come?  James and Steven found an airplane.  Val and Laurene packed and drove.  Thirteen-plus hours later, convening in an upstairs room, James asked, “Do you want to go over now?  After traveling straight so many hours, our bodies simply begged rest.  Reason suggested we wait until morning.  Morning came.  Carma passed quietly away just after 7 a.m., Saturday morning, 25 January.

Each sibling joined Carma’s husband, Patrick and their bishop, cleaning her room, garnering arrangements to honor a sister with pictures, obituary, memorial service, and program 

       

with a gathering of Gees—

                   

to greet and mingle, sing along with The Sound of Music, and comfort Carma’s children,

one coming from Europe. 

Another from California.

(and their cousins from throughout the United States.)  David’s wife, Megan shared with us a book called Gaze into Heaven, detailing experiences with “What is this thing called death?” 

 Brief (but blessed) family interactions 

 

preceded a trudging home Wednesday after a Sunday snow-storm collision. 

(Who says remembering Dad's solution of dental floss can not work for other things than plaid pants?) 

 New battery, new tire, new windshield wiper and a quick stop at a historic Emmitt, Idaho schoolhouse,

 for Laurene to find an old-fashioned bathroom (and shower!) later to learn the school house was really someone’s house!  As we recount merciful moments along the way, hearts echo gratitude to honor a remarkable sister.  Thank you for your interest, prayers, and love that lifts her and us!  Laurene and Val