First of all...
Mars is home!
He got home Monday night.
He has an entire summer of rehab and therapy and rest ahead of him.
But, it feels good to have the village back together.
Second, this handsome boy of mine stopped by Tuesday.
He went to the Ogden Temple to do baptisms.
The Bountiful Temple is closed for cleaning and such.
He said it was packed... like there was a three hour wait.
He was able to baptize three groups and loved it.
He inspires me and amazes me with his faith and courage and strength.
Rand drove up from Orem on Tuesday to take me to lunch.
Most of you know Rand from the stroke.
He and I were dating when I had the stroke.
We had been dating for just a couple of months.
He was then a full-time resident of the IMC 12th Floor with me until I was discharged.
He was there when I took my first steps. He was there when I ate my first meal by myself.
But before those miracles, he bathed me, did my hair, brushed my teeth, got me to and from the bathroom, fed me, rolled me over, did all physical and occupational therapy with me, took me for strolls in the wheelchair, played music for me, decorated the room, read to me day and night, cheered me on in every single aspect of my recovery... all the while running a business and caring for my boys.
I was discharged to his guardianship until I was cleared to go home to my children.
We then broke up, but he has remained a constant, supportive fixture in my children's lives and in mine.
We have a bond that is pretty special.
We are dear friends who support one another and who are brutally honest, in the most Heidi and Rand way possible, with each other.
We had a great lunch, full of laughter, real talk and support for one another.
I am so grateful that he is part of our village.
My boys love him and he loves them.
He is 100% supportive of my treatment and recovery and I am always 100% supportive of Rand doing Rand.
Each time we see each other, he talks a little more about his feelings from the stroke and how it all affected him.
Yesterday, he said that he wanted so badly to talk about issues in our relationship... but I was still learning how to talk again.
In the past, he has told me that his mind was so chaotic as he was told I would probably die by the doctors initially. He could only think of advocating for my comfort care and figuring out how to adopt my boys and move them to Orem and get them into school and get them situated while burying their mom.
My heart breaks for those who have been affected greatly by things in my life.
I will never forget the first time I took my first steps. He began to cry loudly (a rejoicing cry that you only read about in scripture). Then he ran from his spot where he was sitting, watching, to the walkway I was practicing on and lifted me up into the air, crying for joy with pride and gratitude.
That made the therapists cry.
We were all crying.
As Sweet Michael was sitting in his wheelchair, never to walk again, clapping loudly for me.
It was a moment that is cemented in my memory.
My quote from my current book, "Eat Pray Love:"
To fight against that compression is to open up your life, to create possibility where once there was nothing but pressure.
Opening up space for ourselves is a life-affirming act, a sacred act. I believe we must all be allowed to affirm and open our own lives, in celebration of the miracle of our existence...
Be loneyly... learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never use again another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.
This was my moment to look for the kind of healing and peace that can only come from solitude.
