The Baggage We Carry...

I’m convinced that for most of my adult life, I’ve been allergic to food. Every time I’d eat it, I’d break out into fat.

I kept trying to lose weight but for some reason unbeknownst to me, it kept finding me! Despite all my efforts to NOT become the prototype for the new BYU Barbie circulating around my high school (you put a ring on her finger and her thighs blow up), marriage, lack of finances and kids took a toll and even diets and exercise (that handle on my recliner does constitute as an exercise device,…right?) couldn’t help after twenty years.

I knew it was bad when even in my dreams, I was hiding behind muumuus and baggy sweats. I went from being the toast at my almamater to eating toast with butter and gobs of jam to drown the depression of lost youth and beauty.

But worse than my outward appearance was the baggage I continued to hang onto internally. Hiding behind a wall of fat was a LOT more comfortable than facing the demons of unwanted attention and the guilt I harbored and had strived to hide my whole life. Besides (or should I say butt-sides), the permanent cushion I packed around on my backside was quite cozy too!

But when I finally had to face those inner issues and resolve them, something interesting happened. I had a desire to exorcise (I still wasn’t sure about exercise) the chains that held my physical body at bay. I turned to surgery and pretty soon, my outer body began to reflect the lightness I was feeling on the inside.

This does have a point.

Recently I had the opportunity to return back to my high school so I could turn in enrollment papers for my son who has chosen to be sophomore there next year. Although I was not quite back to my former svelte self weight wise, I was back to where I needed to be emotionally.

Or so I thought.

I had just returned from the hairdresser who’d given me a sassy, springy, youthful do and was wearing a new outfit I’d had my fashionably literate sister help me pick out. I was feeling quite good about myself as I headed down to the counseling center until a shadow from a rather large Polynesian swooped over me. I started to walk a little faster and he did the same. It was then, as my history clashed with my present (namely thinner thighs which I was still uncomfortable with) that I thought of my first “Life Saver”;


Fat people are harder to kidnap.

When I saw the drinking fountain, I made a beeline for it and hoped that my large friend would pass on by. He didn’t. He stood right behind me and in a smooth voice with post-pubescent seductiveness said, “I haven’t seen you around here lately. What’re ya doing this Friday?”

I choked on my water and then smiled as I slowly turned around. “I’ll be spending it with my two teenage sons and my husband. But thank you for asking.”

He stuttered and said in a rather contrite voice that instantly shot up a few octaves, “Sorry, Mam.”

Feeling much lighter and realizing that a quick set of male footsteps does not have to mean disaster, I genuinely smiled and told him. “Don’t be. You just made my day.”

It’s nice to know that although the baggage of the past will still make me want to run and hide at times, I can face the future with optimism knowing that a sassy haircut, a new outfit and a lot less baggage will take years off (at least a couple of decades!!) one’s life….

LIfe is Tough - I Doubt I'll Make it Out Alive

My second book, Life is Tough, has come out just in time for the Mother's Day shopping frenzy. It is a compilation of the life's lessons I've learned while still maintaining the ability to laugh - mostly at myself and the situations that family life brings to a mother.

For those of you who do not know the history behind it, it was the first manuscript I ever wrote and I did so while my father was battling cancer in 2003. He was an eternal optimist and the man who had taught us how to laugh through the tough times. But cancer took its toll and got him down. I wanted him to know that no matter the outcome, he'd done it right by teaching us how to live, laugh and love well.

I captured all of our family stories and wrote them in a humorous vein and asked him to edit them while he was laid up in his hospital bed undergoing chemo. My desire was to let him know that his teachings had sunk in and take away a bit of his pain through laughter.

He laughed so hard, his doctor told him to knock it off or he'd bust a few stitches on his recovering backside. He did forget the pain for a bit and I figured I'd done my job. He hadn't done his though....

Before he died, he made me promise that I'd seek publication for this manuscript so I could teach others how to laugh at the everyday foibles in life. Although I never intended this manuscript to be published, true to my word, it now is and available for public consumption. I guess my life is now quite literally and open book…

But now I have to market the blinkin' thing and so, I am going on another virtual campaign to spread laughter and chuckles across America. Let's face it, in a world where laughter is about as plentiful as cellulite on Callista Flockheart's thighs, we need to remember how to laugh.

And so, on my hosts' Blog and FaceBook sites, you can read reviews, comments and favorite gems captured within the pages of Life is Tough. But most importantly, they as well as myself, will have Life Savers - gems of thought (look for the Life Saver Candy picture since life can be sweet if you look at that way) - which will help you to laugh and look at the world in a different way. That Life Saver will be explored more completely on my blog and you can link to it from all of theirs too.

And to kick that off, since this story began with the passing of a great man in my life, my first Life Saver is this:


Strive to make your life long and useful similar to a roll of toilet paper.

My dad could be stubborn and hardheaded but like a water will smooth the rough edges off of a stone, adversity softened him into a man that many came to love and admire. At his funeral, we waited to greet people of various ages who'd come from all over the country to give their condolences. We quit counting at 750.

His passion was people and helping them to find the true joys in life. He taught that there are several things one ought to take seriously in life but ones self is certainly not one of them.

I did not truly understand the depth of his service to those around him until I later had to clean out his files and read the notes of thanks for the many things he'd quietly done for people.

It suddenly made me want to live my life in such a way that I'd bring honor to his name and his life. Like his, I wanted my life to be long and extremely useful like a roll of toilet paper.

Dad wasn't perfect but he gave all that he had to build up those around him and better the quality of their lives.

Yes indeed, for a man who was more hard-headed than one of those presidents on Mount Rushmore, he certainly did make his life long enough to be useful. And in my humble opinion, he accomplished enough to “wipe” away any doubts as to his greatness and life beyond…..

A Future for Tomorrow

Many do not know this about me but when I was 15, I got mono and lost sooo much weight I got down to 96 pounds. It was the first time anyone told me how thin I looked and it made me feel 'noticed' and accepted - like I'd finally done something outstanding. Even my mom noticed that my jeans bagged on me.

I was determined to not gain it back and thus started a cycle of binging and purging that lasted until I was 21 when I lost my fist baby through miscarriage at four and half months. And even though the pregnancy was doomed from the start (something was wrong and it was apparent that the mass of cells had never developed), I harbored the guilt and blamed my twisted eating habits and fear of gaining weight for the loss of a precious child. The ipecac and laxatives went into a drawer and were never used for purging again.

From there my weight problems went to the other extreme as I ballooned upwards hoping to disappear behind rolls of fat in order to become unnoticed.

After years of trial, family counseling, finally understanding my own self worth and gastric bypass surgery, the weight is coming off and I am using food in a healthy manner as I reclaim who I am.

Since bulimia and anorexia at that time were not commonly talked about (this was before Callista Flockheart and Kate Moss), I thought no one else dealt with issues of self esteem and body dismorphia like I did and treatment certainly wasn't openly discussed either. I thought I was unique in a very sick sort of way. And so when my dear friend Tristi Pinkston asked me to review a book called A Future for Tomorrow about a young woman who struggled with Anorexia Nervosa, I have to admit that I was intrigued.

Haley Hatch Freeman is extremely candid as she opens her mind to readers who witness the struggles of a young woman struggling with anorexia. The thought processes, the self depreciating talk, the distorted views of self, it all becomes clear and evident to the sickness that rages on behind the eyes of one who struggles with an eating disorder.

And for me, it was healing. I cried and I laughed as I cheered Haley on, recognizing the thought processes of self-disgust and guilt and the desire to feel loved and accepted. I understood the battle that goes on in one's mind for control of the number on the scale and as I read her account of that struggle, I battled right along with her remembering my 25 year process and cheered at her triumph.

Up to this point I have hated full length mirrors and cameras (so why I bought a house full of mirrored closet doors is beyond me!!). But after reading the last page of A Future for Tomorrow, I proudly stood before my full length mirror and looked past the dry erase marker to-do list and looked into my own eyes and saw something I'd never seen before.

It was me,.... and despite the fact that I have another 80 pounds to go, I could honestly say that I was happy with myself and that I have a pretty smile and clear blue eyes that sparkle with the knowledge that I am okay.

I haven't been able to do that my whole life. But after reading Haley's book, I had the desire to look at myself through a Heavenly Father's eyes and see the good in His child. And I have Haley to thank for that.....

I had a desire to get to understand this young woman a little bit more and so I had the opportunity to ask her a few questions. Here is that conversation:

Me - Haley, you were very candid about your experiences in A Future for Tomorrow. How hard was it for you and your family to relive that period and were they okay
with the honesty with which you painted yourself and them?

Haley -It was painful for me to relive the experience. There is a quote I read that I think applies to my situation: “Better that one heart be broken a thousand times
in the retelling, if it means that a thousand others hearts need not be broken at all”
(quote by Robert MCAfee Brown)

My parents tell me when they read my book it brings everything back to them vividly, as if they are there again since I was able to describe it as accurately as I did. So
it does bring back some of their pain as well. However, they are amongst my biggest fans and supporters of the book, and of me telling our story.

My parents, other family members, and friends are pleased with their portrayals since they admit it is completely factual and accurate. My dad’s depiction was the hardest
for me, with showing his negative side of his inherited “fat-phobia”. He is one of the greatest men I know with deep spirituality and love for others. He would do anything
for anyone and is truly an amazing man and father.  He does admit he has this problem with judgment over weight issues and he tries to work on it. I hope the
reader is able to see his positive attributes over his weaknesses. 

Me - You have a passion to share your experiences to help others avoid or overcome the pitfalls that consumed you. What single factor drives you the most?

Haley -There are two factors that drive my passion to share my experience. First of all, I feel it to be part of my mission, my purpose in this life.  We each have a
sacred duty and reason we are on this journey of life, a purpose only you can accomplish. I know sharing my story is part of mine.  

Secondly, I know the heartache of this disease. I can offer something unique to those who are suffering. I don’t know many people who would choose not to help
someone if they knew they had the potential to do so. It sounds cliché but it is sincerely how I feel: “If I can help just one person avoid or get through this
disorder it will be worth it.” 

Me - I'm sure it was very difficult to talk about your experience with being overcome by dark influences. How did you come to peace with that in such a way that you
were able to share it with others without causing more trauma to yourself and those around you?

Haley  - This particular incident was without a doubt the hardest for me to write about and edit. It was something I did with great prayer and guidance. I feel it was
suppose to be a part of my book and the Lord guided me through representing what truly did occur in a respectful manner in my book.  I never felt writing about it would
bring trauma to me or others around me, which it didn’t.

Me - What is the best advice you could give to those who struggle with eating disorders and self esteem issues on a whole? How can they overcome them or avoid
them altogether?  

Haley - I could write an entire other book answering this question alone. In short, the main thing I would like a person who is suffering with an eating disorder to know
is they CAN NOT get over it alone. They DO need to get professional help. 20% of people with eating disorders and 25% of people with anorexia nervosa die without
treatment. That number goes down to 2-3% with treatment. The key to recovery is to get help, be honest with your counselor and with yourself with the issues that
caused the eating disorder and the eating part will take care of itself. Find a passion and use your energy to focus on that instead of the disorder.

Self-esteem is a difficult one too, if it is low enough that there is destructive behaviors, again treatment is necessary. This is one of my favorite quotes, “All of you need to
drink in deeply the gospel truths about the eternal nature of your individual identity and the uniqueness of your personality. You need, more and more, to feel the perfect
love which our Father in Heaven has for you and to sense the value he places upon you as an individual. Ponder upon these great truths, especially in those moments
when (in the stillness of such anxiety as you may experience as an individual) you might otherwise wonder and be perplexed" (President Spencer W. Kimball) I would
like to share with those mentioned the letter in the back of my book titled “To Those Who Are Suffering.”

Prevention again encompasses so much. Causes of eating disorders can span from their parents raising style, to life situations such as abuse, to being overly influenced
by media and much more. (Usually a person with a serious disorder has multiple triggers, maybe all of the above and more.) A powerful prevention tool is awareness
and education. Something I hope my book can provide more of. 

A large responsibility does fall on parents. A child with a mother who diets or who has an eating disorder is 12 times more likely to have one too. A parent should NEVER
put themselves down in front of their child. They not only model this behavior but it leads the child to believe, “If Mom, who is perfect in my eyes, thinks she is fat
and ugly then how much worse am I?”

Me - What is the single most important lesson you learned through your whole experience? 

Haley - The importance of self worth, and faith.

Haley’s book is published through Granite Publishing. For more information, you can
go to her website www.afuturefortomorrow.com and to read more of her thoughts and
wisdom, go to her blogsite at www.afuturefortomorrw.blogspot.com 

Sometimes the best noise is no noise at all

With four boys and a husband that acts like one at times, I have to admit that boisterous noise is a part of everyday life.

This morning when I woke up, I was feeling a little bit overwhelmed by life in general and was wondering how I was going to get a bit of peace back into my daily routine. And then I noticed something....

After having gotten the boys off to school and saying good-bye to a husband who had an early morning appointment and confirming that I didn't have to rush to be anywhere, I couldn't help but smile as I realized there was not a sound to be heard,...that is except for the raindrops on the roof if I strained to hear them.

It was soooo quiet, I wasn't quite sure what to do so I sat back down on my bed, pulled my fuzzy blanket up over me,closed my eyes and listened to the silence.

An interesting thing happened. I could envision happy times I'd had, things I wanted to do and hear clearly some voices that I was afraid I'd forget. In listening to the silence, I reconnected with my world and was rejuvenated to make it through the rest of the week.

I'm not sure if the noise of life has gotten to me or if I'm just growing up. Either way, this morning I consider myself blessed to have not heard a thing....

What do you want to leave behind?

This past month has been an interesting one as we’ve parched through my parents’ possessions.
It’s been a lot of tears as we’ve remembered the good times, and laughter as we relived the adventures, There was stuff to throw away and stuff that we took into our homes cherishing it for the next generations.

But mostly for me, it was a time of learning and understanding.

One neighbor kiddingly came over to ask if we’d found anything shocking or of noted interest as we went through their things.

“No”, we responded, “They were pretty much who we had always believed them to be.”

We found love letters to each other and journals that expressed their thoughts and feelings. We found boxes and boxes of pictures that captured every worthwhile memory and some that we wish hadn’t been captured. We found temple clothes and patriarchal blessings, notes and letters from each of us and pictures we’d drawn – all stuff that would have been boring to the outside world (no novels to write here) but all things that gave us comfort nonetheless knowing that our parents had loved and cherished us and given us a good life based on eternal principles.

It wasn’t until I got home, though, along with all of my mothers papers that I did find something shocking – something that I’d never known about her. As I opened one of her boxes, I found her most cherished collection – one none of us had ever known she’d even had.

We’d known about her Santa collection and about dad’s book collection but this was something that was near and dear to her heart that in the quiet of her room dictated her loves and desires.

For years in her nightstand I’d seen a highlighter and a small pair of scissors and had wondered why she kept them there because I’d never seen her use them. Of no great consequence,….until I had opened this box.

Inside, placed lovingly were hundreds of clippings out of the Church News of a feature called ‘Applying the Scriptures’.

For the better part of 20 years, my mother had carefully cut these little features out, highlighted the things that stood out to her and had then gone to the scripture referenced and used that as a study guide as she studied. More notes had been made in the margins of her scriptures as she gained further insight.

Suddenly this box full of what at first appeared to be nothing more than a collection of recyclable goods, took on whole new meaning and gave me insight into a part of my mother’s life that I had not know before.

She had not made it a public practice of showing that she had done the right things but had simply and quietly just done them. And I, nor any of my siblings, had ever known the deep commitment and faithfulness with which she had lived her everyday life in this one area until after her death when I so fortuitously had stumbled upon her most prized collection.

The whole experience made me really think about what I want to leave behind. What do I want those who come after me to find that will dictate my life, passions and desires? And furthermore, what do I want to collect for my own personal enjoyment rather than for the sake of the world?

I also have to admit though, that I can’t wait to see my mom’s neighbor again so that I can tell him that I did find something shocking that gave me new insight into who my mother really was.
I will also gladly share with him that her heart, passions and desires were more than I ever could’ve dreamed of and that I can only hope to follow in her footsteps one day.

Room for Two

Think of the most heart-wrenching tragedy a person could suffer and then mix it with a dose of honesty, healing, understanding and a happy ending and that's what you will find in Abel Koegh's book Room for Two.I was admittedly a little bit hesitant to read this one since I am a self avowed sucker for fictional stories that I know are going to end up with a happy ending. Abel's story is anything but happy but I can honestly say it is inspirational and once I picked it up, I could not put it down (much to the dismay of my 14 year old so whose triple I missed at the ballpark since the book was blocking my view)!

It cannot be easy to write about your wife's suicide while she's 7 months pregnant and the resultant death of your daughter but what caught me about Abel's story is the raw emotion and the honesty with which he told his story. As a reader, one cannot help but connect with him on his journey of healing and moving on. I could only marvel at his strength and wish to be more like him as I face my own challenges in life.

Ever being the journalist I am though, there were a few questions that I had to ask. I share those along with his responses with you now;

Me - For many men, it is hard to be brutally honest about their feelings and yet in Room for Two, you are so honest, it makes one stand back in awe and admiration especially about the feelings you had over the guilt in not listening to the promptings before your wife's death. How did you find the courage to be so honest and why did you choose that route?

Abel - I tried to read several books about losing a spouse in the months following Krista’s death. I found them to be preachy, boring, and full of self-pity. They rang less than true with me. When I decided to write a book, I vowed not to make same mistake.

I couldn’t write a lie or leave out certain details or scenes just to make myself look good. I had to be able to live with the final product. If anything came of my honesty, I hoped that if people read about my own mistakes, readers would be less inclined to make the same mistakes in theirs.

Me - Many of us unfortunately have lost children - myself included - and a day does not go by that I do not think about her. Do you ever find yourself looking at other children and wondering what your daughter would be like, what her interests would be and counting milestones as if she were there? What helps you get through those days?

Abel - Sometimes I think about what Hope would be doing, but not nearly as often as I used to. It’s probably down to just a handful of moments each year. It helps is that I have three children – two sons and a daughter – with Julie. I fully concentrate on watching them grow and develop. They are the joy of my life.

Me - In your healing process, anger had a big role to play. How would you advise others to handle the grieving process in such horrific tragedies?

Abel - Find a healthy way to deal with your grief. For me it was getting up at 5:00 a.m. and going for a four mile run. I could force all my anger and issues out during that time so when I was done, I could concentrate on simply making it through another day. I tried not to let my grief, anger, or other issues not spill out into my work, friends, or family.

Me - You had known about Krista's genetic background with mental illness. For others who fight depression or other forms of mental ailments, what is the best advise you could give them?

Abel - Don’t be afraid to ask others for help. Whether it’s a family member, doctor, or other mental health professional, if something is not right, let someone know and try to figure out a solution to the problem.

Me - For quite a while you fought with the demons that overcame Krista. Did you ever have that moment where you came to truly understand what it was that tormented her and the meaning of her cryptic message on the answering machine?

Abel - I have no idea what her answering message was trying to communicate. I simply chalk it up to her frenzied mind and that she saw no point in hanging around this world.

Me - Despite all the heartache, you have been blessed with another good woman who has helped heal your heart and shown you what it is to love fiercely again and shared with you the joys of raising a family. For those who are having a hard time seeing that there may be a brighter day ahead, what advice can you give them?

Abel - Life is about making the most of the hand we’ve been dealt. Each morning we have a choice to be either a victim or a hero. Victims let things beyond their control rule their life. Heroes make the best of their circumstances and try to improve them.

I firmly believe that most of our “living” takes place in the gray matter between our ears. Whether we’re happy or sad, miserable or at peace though most of our life is a direct result of how we choose to view the world and the choices we consciously make.

Me - And do you still run? Who is winning now? ;-)

Abel - We still run but having three young kids have forced us, for the most part, to keep separate exercise schedules. Julie works out in the morning. I do it during my lunch break at work. We still try to make time to run on Saturday mornings. Julie still wins – even when she’s pushing a kid or two in our running stroller. She’s a very gifted athlete.

Me - This last one is for your wife if she doesn't mind,....Abel wrote of a bit of hesitation in getting involved with a man with such a unique past. How did you overcome those trepidations and what advice would you give to other women who want to love a widower but are afraid they might get stuck 'competing' with memories? You are a remarkable woman and I thank you for allowing your story to be shared with us.

Julianna - A lot of it had to do with the way Abel treated me. He always makes me feel like the number one woman in his life. I really don’t have to worry about competing with a ghost because Abel never makes me feel that way. For other women who are dating widowers, my advice would be not to settle for someone who’s having a hard time treating you like number one. If you feel like you’re always being compared to a dead woman, get out of the relationship.

I would highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to find inspiration

For those of you who would like to get your own copy of Abel's book Room for Two click here .

The 'Stuffing' of Life

This past weekend, my siblings and I had the daunting task of clearing out my mother and father's home since my mother passed away three months ago at age 63 and my father passed away four years ago at age 61 - both from cancer.

Since no who is really living - and my parents were ALIVE - plans on leaving this life at such a young age, unimportant things tended to get put off. The closets had not been cleaned out and the shed was a mess. There was an accumulation of papers and stuff under her bed that would have been a rat's nesting utopia. Her files were outdated and there were even crumbs behind the appliances.

But as we went through the stuff, we also found love letters from my dad to my mom and journal entries written by my mom about how much she had missed and loved him. We found pictures of family gatherings and our prize winning art pieces and papers from school. There were clothes from special occasions and dried flowers that my dad had given her on their first date.

Bottom line, we found a life of memories amongst that stuff in a household that had been a child's haven from the world and a jumping off point for our aspiring dreams and personal growth.

The whole experience made me stop and think about what truly is important and what the definition of stuff actually is.

Webster's first definition defines 'stuff' as the material or substance out of which anything is or can be made. Looking at my mom's 8 drawer collection of ribbons, tissue paper, paper scraps and gift bags, string and yarn, paper punches, glue and pipe cleaners, I decided that this would certainly constitute as stuff. But so would her collection of books that she read to the grandkids and acted out scenes from. Or dad's camping gear that made many a forest site look like the Hilton.

My uncle once said that he's yet to see a hearse followed by a U-Haul filled with stuff on the way to the cemetery but I have to admit, as I went through all of my parents' stuff I learned another one of life's great lessons.It's the 'stuff' that dreams are made of.