Renee and her girls got to spend a month in Utah. We saw them for roughly two of those weeks. Adam came for the first week, but he had to return to Alaska for work. We had all kinds of fun, zoo, aquarium, water days, sleepovers, hikes, treats, movies... Our final activities last Thursday included a hike to the "Y", lunch at LaCasita and fun at the Springville splash pad.
I was very impressed with all of the kids on the hike. There was minimal whining and pretty much they were mountain goats. Abby struggled a little bit, but she is not really a whiner, she just needed a hand to hold. During the last quarter of the way up or so, Taylor had low blood sugars. We pumped him up with four capri sun drinks and took a ten minute break. The break allowed Erika to catch up with us. He slogged along for a couple of steep switchbacks, but by the time Taylor got to the top of the "Y" his BG was a robust 127. He was able to climb around and explore to his heart's content. All of the kids except for Abby, who held Renee and my had, pretty much ran down the mountain. They would stop at the end of each switchback and wait for an adult to catch up then run down the next stretch. We were hot and hungry when we reached the bottom, but happy we had accomplished our goal.
After lunch and fun at the splash pad, thhe kids took showers at grandma's house and she made them pancakes for dinner. Adam's sister Andrea came by to say her goodbye's because she would not be able to see them tomorrow during the last scheduled "Morrill day." After the baths and pancakes and some roughhousing with Andrea we started a movie to calm everyone down. It was too late to watch the whole thing, so after a few calming minutes I suggested we turn off the movie and say our goodbyes.
That suggestion brought instant tears, genuine, heart wrenching tears. We gave each other long hugs and whispered, "I love you's." The kids' tears tore a whole in my heart. I wonder sometimes why we have to be separated from the cousins we love so much. The separation makes us grateful for every moment we get to spend together; grateful, too, for Skype and phone calls and packages in the mail.
As I was hugging Abby on the front sidewalk while my kids were getting into the car, her final words to me were, "good luck with all the criers." She meant it too. Her compassionate, sensitive heart was concerned with encouraging me to be able to comfort my weeping children and not focused on her own grief. Thank you, Abby. I love you.
I was very impressed with all of the kids on the hike. There was minimal whining and pretty much they were mountain goats. Abby struggled a little bit, but she is not really a whiner, she just needed a hand to hold. During the last quarter of the way up or so, Taylor had low blood sugars. We pumped him up with four capri sun drinks and took a ten minute break. The break allowed Erika to catch up with us. He slogged along for a couple of steep switchbacks, but by the time Taylor got to the top of the "Y" his BG was a robust 127. He was able to climb around and explore to his heart's content. All of the kids except for Abby, who held Renee and my had, pretty much ran down the mountain. They would stop at the end of each switchback and wait for an adult to catch up then run down the next stretch. We were hot and hungry when we reached the bottom, but happy we had accomplished our goal.
After lunch and fun at the splash pad, thhe kids took showers at grandma's house and she made them pancakes for dinner. Adam's sister Andrea came by to say her goodbye's because she would not be able to see them tomorrow during the last scheduled "Morrill day." After the baths and pancakes and some roughhousing with Andrea we started a movie to calm everyone down. It was too late to watch the whole thing, so after a few calming minutes I suggested we turn off the movie and say our goodbyes.
That suggestion brought instant tears, genuine, heart wrenching tears. We gave each other long hugs and whispered, "I love you's." The kids' tears tore a whole in my heart. I wonder sometimes why we have to be separated from the cousins we love so much. The separation makes us grateful for every moment we get to spend together; grateful, too, for Skype and phone calls and packages in the mail.
As I was hugging Abby on the front sidewalk while my kids were getting into the car, her final words to me were, "good luck with all the criers." She meant it too. Her compassionate, sensitive heart was concerned with encouraging me to be able to comfort my weeping children and not focused on her own grief. Thank you, Abby. I love you.
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