Best of Times...Worst of Times (Thanksgiving Edition)

Thanksgiving Day is a harvest festival. Traditionally, it is a time to give thanks for the harvest and express gratitude in general. And let's face it, there is not much on the planet I am more thankful for in the late fall/early winter than a bit of sunshine. In order to properly express our thanks for such a wonderful star, we felt it necessary to chase it, and headed south to St. George. Originally, the plan was Kanab to visit Bill's grandma, but after listening to me moan about winter already, (and in order for him to properly test out his graduation gift--a 2010 Specialized Stumpjumper), we decided to add a couple of fun days in St. George. It was our very best and our worst Thanksgiving vacation.

The St. George half of the trip qualifies as the best of times. St. George has invested in miles and miles of fantastic paved trails along the Virgin River. Our family enjoys riding these trails for hours on end. Romney has become a champion biker on his tiny little single speed bike. He is right in between bike sizes, where his size is too small, but the next one is just a hair too big, so we are holding out until spring to buy William the next size and passing William's to Romney (William is in a similar biking predicament.) Romney has to pedal super hard and fast to gain any real ground. He said his legs "were like a sewing machine" with how fast they were going straight up and down.



When we tired of biking (or Romney's sewing machine legs gave out) we drove to Snow Canyon and did two fun short hikes. We hiked out to the lava rocks and up Jenny's Canyon. Both were great family hikes with amazing scenery. Romney who is learning about different rock types this year, was totally thrilled to see the lava rocks and pick up very big ones that didn't weigh very much. William was a bit less enthusiastic, but liked seeing the very obvious lava flow route.


Jenny's Canyon was my favorite. I had been rock climbing with some friends in college on the outside face of this canyon, but never made it in. It is really a beautiful place with lots of crevices for the kids to boulder up and hide in. We took the other trail to the scenic overlook of the canyon and watched the sun start to set over Snow Canyon.



Since really two hikes and a bike ride or two are never enough for any family, we headed straight over to Dixie Rock to do a little "stalking" of my past, by driving by the house I used to stay at every time I needed an escape from the horror that is/was BYU (Which, for the record, worked out roughly to every two weeks.) We then walked up to the top of Dixie rock where we discovered both boys do not have a fondness for heights. They were both tripping out to be anywhere within 15-20 of the ledge (holding our hands, I might add.) They did enjoy bouldering over some of the area that is located much further away from any major, life-threating drops.





Our next stop was Kanab to visit Bill's grandma. This part of our visit had been planned and booked a month ago. However, a few days before Thanksgiving, we found out she was being hospitalized and would not be able to return to her home to live again. The doctors found cancer that is well past the treatable phase and she in unable to walk by herself. Anne drove out a few days before the original plan to come and care for her in the hospital. She has single-handedly managed all the doctor's information, the house, the packing for her grandmother to move to live with family in Arizona, as well as researching hospice care and long term care options to help make this the easiest possible transition. She is amazing and definitely the person I want as my advocate should anything land me in the hospital.

Bill and Anne had several hours alone in the hospital with their grandma while I had the boys at a park and then watching a movie. We joined them all at Grandma's house for our last visit with her there. (The doctor's were willing to release her for one night so she could feel like she got to go home before having to move in with her daughter). Bill and I were able to hear the stories of all the homes she had lived in since marrying Bill's grandfather. It was special to hear the details of each place straight from the source. It is so astounding that we had this trip planned on what ended up being her last two days in Kanab. Her mind is sharp as a tack, it is her body that is betraying her. I am not sure if that makes aging easier or harder.

Being home seemed to help perk Bill's grandmother up, and Anne and I got her dressed and tucked in for the night. Anne and I also made a 2:00 a.m. run over to her home to get her changed and do a quick check on her. It reminded me of hanging out with Anne in the retirement home during our college years, while she worked the midnight shift. The morning came and we gave her a quick sponge bath and dressed her and helped prepare her for her move to Phoenix. Getting her loaded onto the bed created out of an air mattress in the back of the van that would transport her to her new home was no easy fete. Any movement at all is met with pain and even nausea. All of us were very worried about getting her from her home to the car, but it went relatively smoothly. After everyone left, Bill and I tried to do one last little bit of cleaning up and preparing her home for her long absence. The whole day was dreary, even the weather seemed to mimic the family mood.




On the upside, the boys got some great time with Quentin, doing their most favorite activity together--video games. It is odd to be in Kanab at the moment without Bill's Grandma or any other family. We decided to stay, since we had prepaid the hotel for a better rate. If the weather cheers up tomorrow, we will head out on a hike, while Bill does a grown-up test run of his new mountain bike. A last ditch effort to have some fun family time before we get busy preparing for December and Bill's graduation.


I am sure that Bill and Anne are thankful to have this precious time with their grandma, that will be lost to much of the rest of her family.

So, from our own personal tale of two cities. . . "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."