Conversations with Caleb

Hi Caleb, I don't think you're sad...but I am.  Sadness is an interesting emotion. I have experienced sadness throughout my life, but rarely have I chosen to live in sadness. I think I have long equated living in sadness with becoming a victim, and I have always wanted my life to stand for the opposite of victim hood - a life of creating, building, choosing, becoming. But lately I’ve been sad. Not just passing moments of sadness, but seasons of it. Sometimes I wake up and it is already sitting beside me. Sometimes it follows me through the day quietly, like a shadow I cannot outrun. And what has surprised me most is the fact that I am still creating. I still love people deeply. I still make meals, write words, grow things, solve problems, comfort others, laugh unexpectedly, make plans for tomorrow, and run my businesses. I still notice beauty. I still contribute. I still choose. I'm learning that sadness is not the same thing as defeat. Lately I've cried a lot o...

Caleb, Sometimes when we look at pictures of you, we say, “We can hear Caleb in that picture.” And it’s true. You were full of life, and your excitement often came bursting out in a loud whoop or holler. You celebrated your own wins, but just as often, you celebrated ours. And it was never forced. It was genuine joy. April has been a month that would have given you plenty of reasons to shout. 1. Easter! He is the Reason for the Season, and you had a great testimony of that. We visited your graveside and found a beautiful painting from our friend Rod.  It was such a meaningful surprise.  We enjoyed being together at the cemetery - crying and laughing about you, and finding joy in the knowledge that we're only separated for a short time.  You were there with us.  This time, though it wasn't a shout from you - just a warm feeling of love.   2. General Conference And as if that wasn’t great enough, some of your friends from Ft. Wingate stopped by our home on the...

Caleb, Your heart was special. You always knew how to love - fully, freely, and without hesitation.  And yet, your heart was also hurting in ways we couldn’t see. We treated symptoms, searched for answers, but nothing pointed us to what was really happening. The tests didn’t reveal it.  Not until the autopsy did we begin to understand the physical reality - that your heart had been struggling. You had cardiomyopathy connected to an ultra-rare genetic condition. It wasn’t only your heart; other vital organs were affected too. And still… you kept going. You were your same energetic self - working hard, chopping wood, serving, lifting others. The night before you passed, you received a blessing for intense back pain. Now we understand… it was likely your heart. Your dad and I decided early on that no matter what we learned, we would seek peace with your passing. But still, the questions come… What if we had known? Could we have helped you stay? Those questions  -  what ...

 Well Caleb, I thought I might check in and share a few thoughts. And, today is three months since you graduated, so it seems like a good time to put this out there.   Several weeks ago, Mom and I and Paige, Kylee and Eryn drove down to Brian Head for a ski trip. I have sometimes questioned how I'm processing your jumping the line and going to the Spirit World early, or, at least what seems early to us.  There are moments when I think I'm way to pragmatic about all this and moving on with mundane things and seeming almost unfeeling.  Honestly, I've felt a little guilty about that.   I had this thought the morning we drove down to Brian Head.  As we were driving, I had a mixed playlist going and a song I particularly enjoy came on called "Slow Down".  The performance was by an artist named Sissel with the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square.  Grandma, my Mom, loved this song as well. Here's the performance: https://youtu.be/EFe84U__kt8?si=n...

 Caleb, I remember when you went through your flower phase. It was around the time you started liking girls. Imagine that. You found all sorts of small glass containers and filled them with little bouquets. I wish I had taken more pictures, but I did capture one. It truly is a picture worth a thousand words—a snapshot of a boy who loved deeply and wanted to share that love through the beauty of flowers. You brought me, Kylee, and JoAnn so many arrangements during that time… and maybe a girl or two as well.  Flowers suited you as a teenage boy.  You had an innate tenderness about you.   Flowers also go with funerals. You would have loved the flowers given to us at your funeral—beautiful arrangements from so many people who love you and who love our family. Words cannot express the gratitude we feel. You didn’t just love flowers. You loved beauty. I can still hear you saying, “Mom, come look at the sunset. It’s perfect right now!” Thank you for teaching me...

Caleb, The last couple of weeks have been full. Your sister Eryn received her mission call. She leaves in April. Because her departure is coming so quickly, we hurried to plan a weekend to go see your people - your mission friends. Your siblings rearranged work schedules and obligations so we could all go. All seven of us. You know how our family trips always count eight.  Six kids. Two parents. Seven felt… noticeable. A little tender. A little incomplete. But as we counted off in that van, every single one of us felt it - there were eight. You were with us the entire trip. Thank you for helping us feel whole. Buddy, this weekend was about you. The music. The hiking. The long stretches of driving. We wanted to understand you better, and in so many quiet ways, it felt like you were guiding us. What did we learn? Your gift to see people deeply was real. The people you served felt seen. You loved using your priesthood to bless and lift others. You were a goofball, ev...