Out of the Mouths of Babes

Today I was sitting on the curb with a 4 year old. She wondered what fun things I might have in my purse. As I showed her how boring my purse has become, I told her I didn't carry too many fun things. She said, "Mommy does." I said, "Yes, I used to carry crayons and books and gum for my little girls too; thats what mommiess do." Very astutely the four year old reminded me that I was a mommy too. Then I explained that my little girls were grown up now and could carry their own purses. In an instant the 4 year old said, "One of your girls is in heaven now--Miss Megan." Then she took my hand and said, "I miss her; I wish she'd come back." To which I could only reply, "Me too baby, me too..."

Not my words, just my feelings

I ran into this poem today and it spoke so deeply to my heart:

Room Full of Memories

I walk into your vacant room.
A slight fragrance of you remains
haunting the air like an icon
on the pages of my memories.
All your personal possessions are gone,
here where I watched you bloom.




Leafing through chapters, my heart sighs.
What good times we shared along with bad.
I see you there, a charming baby,
then as the pages turn quickly
you're a high school beauty having fun.
I can't stop the tears flowing from my eyes.


Joy and pain stored as souvenirs,
guilt and pleasure mixed together.
If I could only change the print
I'd erase our foolish mistakes.
I lay aside the memory book.
Life consists of laughter and tears.



Parenting has come to an end
and how I lament its passing.
I shall miss sitting on your bed
talking with you in the evening,
rubbing your back and stroking your head-
but you are leaving as my friend.



--Judy A. Barnes

And a new adventure begins

Today marks my wonderful husband's first day on his new job. For those who don't know, he'd been woefully unhappy for the last year or two of his old job. Long story, won't get into it. As Megan's condition worsened, his love of his old job lessened. As rival companies heard of his unhappiness, they began swarming like bees to honey. This company essentially told him, "Hey, we know you can't do anything right now. We're not interviewing anyone else for this position. When your situation changes, lets talk and iron out the details." So the details were later ironed and he is now in Houston beginning a new adventure.

So, where does his adventure leave me??? Good question I'd say. Since I'm not terribly fond of southern summertime heat and humidity, we've decided to keep our home in Utah. We'll find something for Houston and I'll commute every few weeks to visit friends and have a semblance of a social life. And I'll spend most of the summers in Utah.

I will rekindle some old friendships from our Houston days. We've already emailed several couple that we knew "back in the day." Actually, those days were 22+ years ago.

But for now, I must concentrate on finding a home in Houston. Houston's a big place--lots and lots of houses. Hopefully, it will be like finding the right guy to marry--you don't have to date every guy (see every house), you just have to date the right one (see the right one.)

A life in storage

I spent 2 hours yesterday starting the process of clearing out Megan's condo. I feel fortunate that we own the condo and I haven't been pressured by an over-anxious landlord to get everything out quickly. The gal who rented the second bedroom has been very wonderful and patient. She will move into Megan's room when its ready and Greg (Megan's old roommate who moved to New Zealand for the summer) will take his old room back.

So the boxes are slowing being packed. I don't really know what you do with a lifetime of memories. Even with a short 26 year life there are so many items. What do I keep? What do I give away to friends? What do I trash? I find myself trying to keep too much. Then I get pragmatic and realize that the red shirt isn't Megan; the red shirt is just a shirt, although it was a shirt that Megan enjoyed.

Boxes of books for the library, bags of clothes for charity, clothes for friends to go through for their teeny tiny daughters, all of these things are being sorted. But what about notes from old boyfriends and old journals from high school? I'm not ready to read it all. I know Megan; she carried alot of anger, especially as a teenager and especially toward me. No need to read that when I know she loved me at the end. But maybe one day? Maybe I should hold onto them for the "one day."

So much of Megan is in that tiny condo. It will be hard to see all of her things boxed up and stored away. It feels like I'm putting her life in storage. A life that deserved to be lived more fully than she got. A life that we all deserved to see fulfilled. I think we all deserved a whole lot more than this.

6 weeks--time isn't healing anything

It is now 6 weeks and 3 days since Megan left us. (I usually say she died, but since today I'm feeling pitiful, I'm going with the full victimization and saying she LEFT us--like she had a choice...)

I thought somehow it would start to be easier by now. It seems to have gotten more difficult.

Perhaps I was too busy with all the details that come with death. Funeral arrangements, family, food for the masses, etc. No time to think.

And then I was too busy when my parents house burned down just a week and a half after the funeral. I scurried to Louisiana to see if I could help. Lots to do when a house burns down. No time to think. Two weeks later I returned home.

And then I had an old high school pal visit for another week. So much to do in that week we had together. No time to think.

So now the grief just crushes me. I'm not a crier. Seriously, I hate to cry. I especially hate to cry in front of people. But I find myself crying at the most unexpected times. And I find this lack of control so utterly "not me." I mean, who cries over a Christmas that has yet to happen or cries at "so you think you can dance" marathons or cries in the middle of a Mexican restaurant when they see a little girl picking her nose?

Yep, I'm a mess. And I see no way to clean up the mess. Not enough time for that either.

Damn World

I don't know why, but Reba's song, "I guess the world didn't stop for my broken heart" just keeps playing in my mind. For some reason the sun keeps coming up, the garbage man makes his weekly rounds, the pets still want to be fed. I guess I should just plan on being part of this world, whether I want to or not.

Megan's Obituary

Megan Leigh Brown February 2,1983-July 25, 2009

Our daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, and friend passed away after a 4 year battle with ovarian cancer. Megan was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. As a child, she lived in Humble, Texas and Jenks, Oklahoma. She moved to Park City in 1994. She graduated in 2001 from Park City High where she was on the Dance and Academic Decathlon teams. Megan graduated from Mary Washington University in Fredericksburg, Virginia with a degree in English in 2005. While in college, she danced and choreographed for the school’s performing arts group. She returned to Utah following graduation and discovered that Park City was where she wanted to live forever. She was last employed at Park City Mountain Resort. Megan’s great loves were family and friends, great literature, not-so-great trashy romance novels, dance of all types, travel, and the Utah Jazz. Megan leaves behind her parents, Kevin and Marie Brown (Park City), a sister, Sydney Lynne Brown (Baton Rouge, Louisiana), Grandparents, Darrell and Lavonne Brown (Conway, Arkansas) Curney and Shirley Lyons (Gonzales, Louisiana), numerous uncles, aunts, and cousins, and countless friends. Services will be held on Thursday, July 30th at 3:00 PM at the Park City Community Church in Park City. At Megan’s request, friends are invited to wear bright, happy colors so she can see us from above. In lieu of flowers, family has asked the donations be made to The Blanton-Davis Ovarian Cancer Research Program at MD Anderson Cancer Center, PO Box 4486, Houston, TX 77210 or The Huntsman Cancer Foundation, Memorial and Honor Program, 500 Huntsman Way, Salt Lake City, UT 84108. Special thanks to the many health care professionals who assisted Megan and her family in this difficult journey.