A Little Rock n' Roll

Written By: Ben

To start off this blog post I was curious if y'all actually prefer the weekly posts or the longer gaps between each post? I am still going to write in it once a week I think, but I am curious what the general opinion is.

This post will probably not be as long as some of the others, but we will see what happens. In fact it will most likely be a ton shorter.  This post was also written a week after my last one just in case someone decides to try and give me crap about it being longer than a week. (Seeing as it won't be uploaded until the morning after it was written.)

This last week was a long one if I am being honest, mainly because I was sick for about five out of the seven days. I just started some antibiotics a few days ago and they already seem to be making a huge difference. Weeks like these help me realize that I am out here for a reason and although they are hard they also give me the strength to continue on the journey. Truthfully a lot of things help me continue pushing forward, and many of them are so insignificantly small that one would think little to nothing of them. 

A story or some background to help express my thoughts. Ever since I can remember my family has loved listening to, and enjoying music. I remember dancing around and goofing off as a small kid to a wide variety of music. I love just about every type of music, and this is very apparent as you scroll through my phone. Although I enjoy a ton of music, there are certain songs and genres that will always have a place in my heart. One of these is Classic Rock, now I know that classification is super vague, so perhaps some examples: Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Journey, CCR, Scorpions, Def Leppard, Kansas, Guns N' Roses, Styx, and a whole lot more.
 Anyways I remember countless times when Dad and I would be off on some adventure jamming out to Classic Rock. My Father instilled in me a love for this era of music and truly all eras of music. Now that I have given a tad of background, I want to share a more specific experience. That being said I have had several experiences that are very similar to the one I am going to share.
 In High School I had a close group of friends, and this group of buds and I would come home to my house for lunch during my Junior and Senior years. We had many after school activities together, and hung out often. Hence we were in the car driving from place to place A LOT. Although I no longer remember where we were going or what we were doing; I remember one night during senior year we were driving to some forlorn destination. For whatever reason we weren't in the greatest spirits and weren't really chatting or being our normal selves. Well after a few moments of pained silence I plug in my phone to the old cassette tape adapter and hit shuffle (just to give us some noise and perhaps pass the time). Wouldn't you know a certain song comes on over the speakers... "Livin on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi. (I am certain that if you were to play this song in a crowded room well over 80% would sing along to the chorus, maybe not out loud but definitely in their heads). It takes only moments for the small group of us to have the car just about bouncing off of its axles as we all but scream along to the lyrics. In an instant the sour mood and somber spirits were obliterated by a song that just has a way of making the listener forget about their cares and "rock out". Even now when that song comes on, I still cant help but jam and poorly attempt to sing along. Now Bon Jovi may not be your cup of tea, but I guarantee that there is a song out there that just gets you in a good mood or pumps you up.
Sometimes it is the tiny things that get us through our days, even and perhaps especially the hard ones. I can't express my gratitude enough for the little miracles that I experience everyday. Although this experience is at times freakishly hard, I wouldn't change it, not because I don't wish things were different, but because I would be different if I didn't have the experiences I do. We all have hard days, indeed days where we wonder if there isn't perhaps an easier way, its days like this I advise us to enjoy the magnificently insignificant.

 The pictures above were of when my parents and went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame near downtown Cleveland. One can easily assume that I was immensely enjoying myself!

Tales and Stories of "The Little Boys"

Written By: Ben

I don't know if I have ever seen two more good looking kiddos in my life. As I mentioned in the last post, I wanted to put this picture back up for a few different reasons. First and most obvious the two kids in this photo are stinking cute! Second, we are still pretty dang good looking if I do say so myself (see photos below). Third, I would be pretty hard pressed to find two closer human beings in existence. 

The above picture is of my cousin Alex and myself when we were probably seven or so. Alex and I have been thick as thieves for as long as either of us can remember. Ever since we were rambunctious enough to walk we have been up to all forms of adventures and shenanigans. Coined the "Little Boys" by our families, we are now the two tallest of said families (not so little anymore!!). Although at heart I think we are still those "Little Boys", whenever we are together we are always having adventures. Now I want to clarify, we MAKE whatever we are doing an adventure, whether that is/was playing with sticks in the backyard as if we were mighty warriors from another time, or on the very frequent late night excursions in search for "grubbies". These adventures or stories include a wide range of activities, items, troubles, and mischief. Some of these tales have ended in great victory while others have ended in sorrow, heartbreak or punishment. Now these tales and stories vary from the exotic to the mundane, from small boys to grown adults, from Mentos, HoHo wrappers, and Mac n' Cheese to knives, bows, guns, four-wheelers and in fact everything in between. 

Perhaps a story to illustrate what I mean. My grandparents live in basically the middle of nowhere in a gorgeous log style home. Their home was a place of many wonders and adventures for Alex and I. One of these locations at the Grandparents house and property is a small mountain/hill a small jaunt from the house on their property. Since we were old enough to be allowed (or not allowed) out of the presence of adults this hill was a place of adventure, wonder, and make believe. I do not remember the first time we ventured into that great unknown, perhaps because it was in fact so long ago. Anyways one day Alex and I were exploring the mountain and to our sheer amazement and joy we stumbled upon an old Indian scouts camp (or so we believed and which probably a small portion of our hearts still believe). This was a true discovery for two young adventurers, the old fire pit, flint chips/flakes, animal bones, and many other remnants of a life of exploring (little did we know, my Grandpa made the camp as a place for us to find) After much investigation and amusement we rushed back to the house wanting to tell everyone, but especially my Dad and Grandpa. On the way back we realize that if we tell everyone it will no longer be a secret place of wonder, so we decide to only tell Dad and Grandpa (seeing as we thought they would know more). To this day whenever Alex and I are at the Grandparents home we still walk up the hill to the old Indian camp and reminisce of times gone by, and the simple care free lives of two young "Little Boys".    

Although we can no longer get away with peeing off the back of the trampoline, we are still up to our adventures. I had the amazing blessing and privilege to spend a full week with my "cuz". We did a lot of things and made every single one an adventure to remember. From going to Niagara Falls, hiking in a place that feels like it is straight out of a fantasy novel, and participating in some of the MLB All-Star festivities, we always seem to have crazy fun stories to tell. Sadly if I were to include these stories, this blog post would be far too long, and crazy. As our week together came to a close and I drove him to the airport it was hard not to cry. (I cried after I dropped him off for sure though). We have been through a ton together and we talk about everything with one another. Although truthfully we have lived many miles apart for the vast majority of our lives, we are closer than brothers. He was among the first people I called when I received the dry run call a week ago, and we both expressed our bond and how it would never fade away, no matter what happened. I would live, die, hide a body, and do anything and everything in between for my cuz.

 Man, we are two good looking guys. Alex is just as much part of the family as I am, and you can bet he makes sure to be there when I can't.

We always jam to "The Boys are Back in Town" by Thin Lizzy. In fact it is one of the songs that could easily act as one of our theme songs if we had to pick one. Although neither of us can really sing we still jam to a wide variety of songs during our many adventures and grubby (food/snacks) runs. 

 Although this picture is not of either of our makings, and the credit for it belongs to some other genius out there; I feel it shows just the tiniest fraction of the humor we "bust a gut" to. If I am being honest though, we laugh at just about anything, even at times the dumbest things. 

Okay, before I wrap up I will give a quick update. I am doing well, my health is pretty much unchanged, and I still try and get out and do things as much as possible. I had an amazing week spending time with some absolutely incredible people, and doing some pretty sweet things. Life is indeed back to "normal" after all the craziness of last week. Moms bingeing a show, I'm chilling, and the world keeps on turning. 

Although we can be giant goof balls, we are also two of the most tender hearted people out there. We laugh, cry, have serious discussions, and get in way over our heads on a frequent basis. I wish to share one last story that is a favorite of my Moms when she is talking about the two of us. One night in my early teen years Alex, Damon (Alex's brother), Bailee, and myself were downstairs watching a movie. As my mom tells the story: She and my Aunt Brenda (Alex's Mom) were upstairs, they could hear this strange noise coming from the basement... After a few moments they decided to check it out. As they sneak their way down the stairs (as to not disturb us) the noise seems to get louder. As they peek around the corner to get a view of us kids and what is going on (we were all on a pull our couch bed) they see what I can only imagine as a touching yet hilarious sight. There on that couch all those years ago are three young boys hysterically balling while watching a movie, and my sister sound asleep as if bored out of her mind. Now I am talking like snot running, can't breathe kind of crying, not the pretty stuff you do to try and keep it together. Of course our parents find this hilarious and to this day bring it up when we are in the presence of new company and old friends. I should also mention that the movie was "Where the Red Fern Grows" and guaranteed Alex and I would still cry today, just as we did back then. 

Even though years have passed since we have been given the name of "The Little Boys" I doubt the nickname will ever die. When we are old and gray, long past the days of boyhood, we will still go on grubby runs, still laugh till we cry at stupid things, and still dream and imagine worlds of wonder and amazement. Indeed no matter distance or age, life or death, happiness or sorrow, we have been, still are and always will be "The Little Boys".  

A Shovel, Sunsets, and One Year Down

Written By Ben:

Okay folks I know you have heard this a lot, but man oh man do I need to write in this blog more often. So seeing as today marks one year of me being here in Ohio I am going to set some "New Year" resolutions. Now hopefully this works better than the majority of New Years Resolutions that seemingly disappear after about three weeks of trying. Starting this week, I am going to try and write in this blog once a week... Oh man just typing that out makes me doubt myself. As I always say,  I am going to try and keep this post relatively short. I am going to apologize in advance, I have included pictures from the last several years to show how I have changed and how life has changed a bit. They are not in order and I will try to add a brief explanation to each photo.

Before I get to the photos I have two stories to share: The first story took place in the wee hours of this morning. I received a phone call last night around 10:20 pm and it was a woman notifying me that some organs had become available for me, but that we needed to get to the hospital as quick as possible because it was kind of last minute notice. So I made the choice to accept these organs and we set off for the hospital. En route, I made phone calls to those I deeply love, so pretty much my family and cousin. Now if I had the time, I would have called many people, but between time and the possibility of not receiving the organs, we decided to keep the number of people who would be in the loop quite small. It was extremely emotional as I talked to people that have been there for me through everything, and that in all honestly I may not have the opportunity to speak to again. Now the chances of that are very slim, but I didn't want to have regrets of not saying something I should, just in case something went wrong. Through many tears and an aching heart I finished the phone calls right as we arrived to the hospital. I received a Priesthood blessing from two very dear friends and we were off to the races. They already had a room ready for me and started straight into pre-op preps. It was crazy and I felt like I was hiking in not only foreign lands, but on a whole other planet. This feeling was odd because all the tests and checks they performed I have already had done in the past. Sometimes just the circumstances in which they are done make things seem completely different. After all the tests and checks I was wheeled down to wait outside the OR. We were waiting for the members of my team who went to procure the organs to report back that the organs were a good match for me. Well, extremely long story in a semi shorter version, the organs were not what they wanted and I am to wait for another call on another day. It is hard to explain my feelings of how this all has and continues to impact me, because of this I am going to share another story to illustrate just a tiny fraction of only a small portion of the feelings and emotions I experienced.

Years ago my Father and I, along with some friends were out "Ghost-towning". This is basically where you go to a ghost town and metal detect, screen, and search for various treasures. I am partial to looking for old bottles and other artifacts, while some people prefer to search for coins of different varieties. So to set the stage a little more I will include the names of all present: Besides myself and Pops there was a friend of my fathers named Tim and his son Hunter, who I was very close to. I do not remember my exact age, but it was probably around 14. After a long day of ghost-towning/treasure hunting, we were back in the trailer getting ready to enjoy some dinner.

Now this particular ghost town was in the middle of freaking nowhere, I'm talking middle of the desert where you are some of the only humans for miles and miles. It is pitch black outside and we are sheltered inside our trailer/camper trying to decide what is to be had for dinner. We came to an impasse as the two young boys wanted Ravioli and the adults wanted something else. The decision was made that us youngins would get our desire and have ravioli while the adults had whatever. We heated the ravioli (the cheap stuff, like Chef Boyardee out of a can), and we are told we will have to eat the whole thing... Well as you can guess we did not end up finishing it. Now while we are eating the adults proceed to tell stories of coyotes eating children, demon foxes, and a whole myriad of unpleasant and slightly terrifying stories. Dinner finished and it is time to dispose of the leftovers. My dad and Tim look at the remaining ravioli in the pan and say "well.... looks like you two are going to have to take that outside and bury it." In what felt like a blinding whirlwind of commotion and movement I am given a shovel and Hunter is given the pan of ravioli. Hunter and I are single file waiting to walk out the trailer door as my dad starts explaining that because of the bugs he is going to open the door so we can rush outside and then he will proceed to close it quickly as to not let in any bugs. So here we go, I am in the front with the shovel, Hunter behind me with the ravioli and unbeknownst to us, Tim is behind both of us waiting to shove us out the door in case we chicken out. (this because of the stupidly frightening tales of all manner of animals AND the constant howls and yips of a pack of coyotes somewhere in the distance).  So my Dad says "on the count of three..." now my dad can see the fear in our eyes as it is beyond pitch black outside and we had just finished being spoon fed tales of terror to the glee of Tim and my Dad. Before I finish the story I just want to say that when it comes to these scenarios my Dad and his buddies are the biggest teases known to man and I don't trust any of them farther than I can throw them. So Dad counts to three and flings the door open and Tim starts shoving us out the door. In my young mind I am thinking "I am about to be shoved into an eternal darkness filled with all sorts of beasts just waiting to gnaw on my too skinny appendages". So in what I would like to call quick thinking, right as I am about to enter the freaking abyss of night, I panic and turn the shovel cross ways. So instead of being semi vertical it is now horizontal in my hands making a verifiable five foot cross bar. Naturally, I slam into my makeshift brace connecting me to the glorious "safety" of the trailer, Hunter slams into me, and Tim into Hunter. In a spectacular display of smashed bodies and near hysteric attempts to stay in the trailer, the pan of ravioli ricochets off of my back and ravioli is sent in all directions, indeed getting it all over everything and everyone in the trailer, in particular the ceiling and walls. 

To wrap up any remaining questions you might have, Hunter and I did in fact end up burying the now twice cleaned ravioli in the ground outside. I don't think I have ever dug faster in my life.  

I share this story because in my mind it explains a piece of what I was feeling today in the early hours of my exact year mark. I was being wheeled down a hallway into what felt like an absolutely and terrifyingly dark abyss and oh what I would have given to have my trusty shovel. Now I do want to clarify that I did feel beyond comforted and at peace, but for the sake of this particular blog post I am just focusing on a very small and particular set of emotions, not necessarily the majority of my feelings. Often times we feel like we are being shoved or wheeled through a doorway that leads out into the cold and unforgiving night, and oh how we scramble and do whatever we can to stay in the warm comfort of our trailers. In a lot of instances though, if we just breathe and trust in our Heavenly Father and Savior (who are generally the ones doing the pushing) letting them guide/push us out the door into the night, we will see the wonders that the night sky holds for each of us. I marvel at the stars and beauty of the night, and although it is filled with things we are afraid of and don't understand, if we trust in God we can see the beauty and grace in all things under heaven.

Thanks for reading through my thoughts and stories, hopefully they help someone as they have helped me. 

I wish to apologize as I am writing this on very little sleep, and I hope and pray it makes sense.

So here's to a future of weekly writing and another year of crazy experiences and exploring the unknowns of "the night". 

I have realized that I do not have many pictures of myself, so I apologize that these are not exact time frames of a year or anything like that. I simply chose pictures that reflected my feelings of being out here a year and all of the crazy blessings and miracles I have experienced in my life.

 This photo was taken the first time I came to Cleveland with my Dad in preparation for moving out here and being put on the list. It still surprises me how skinny I was.

 This was just a few weeks back in the lovely city of Pittsburgh.  We went to see a Pirates game and experience a little bit of the city. Again, it is crazy to see how much I have changed in a year; it is interesting because as I look at these pictures I don't only notice the physical changes that my body has gone through, but I also contemplate the spiritual, mental, and emotional changes I have lived through.

 I absolutely love this picture. My favorite little man and I enjoying some tummy time. He is so young and has grown so much. It has been hard for me at times, because I have only seen him once in the last year and I have had to watch him grow up through the lens of a camera. The light he carries with him makes me smile and hope for a better world not only for me, but also for him.

 Now these are two of the handsomest (and now sexiest) "little boys" out there. This is Alex and I. Lady killers both then and now (not really). Alex spent the last week here in Cleveland with me, and I will be writing all about it here shortly. So I would expect this picture to pop up again.

 This picture was taken just a day or two after my last long hospital stay at University of Utah Medical Center. Oliver was born while I was in the hospital and this is the first chance I had to see and hold my little nephew. Man how things have changed in just the handful of months that have gone by.

 A picture from one of the last adventures Dad and I would take before we would leave for Cleveland. It is crazy to think I have not seen my mountains in a year now, it just about breaks my heart. The mountains are as much of a home to me as is the house I grew up in. Oh how I can't wait for the day when I can be in them again.

I wanted to end with this picture and my thoughts regarding a few things. I have traded my mountains for lush green forests and a vast and beautiful lake. Although it is not the same and I miss my mountains dearly, the lake offers similar escapes as the mountains. Although life has a way of changing who we are and what is around us, there is always joy to be had in every moment of life. The sunset although different wherever you go always shows a beauty that I can scarce take in. I know it is hard to see the benefits of a lot of things in our lives, but I know they are there, I have seen this to be true in my life. I have met incredible people here in Ohio, and although it has been a brutally hard and trying year for me and many others, oh how wondrous are the waves that wash along the shoreline. It is okay to struggle, it is okay to wish things could be different, and it is okay to plead for an easier way. But remember that it isn't how hard you hit the ground after getting beat down by life, but how swiftly you stand up and charge back into the fray.

Thank you to everyone who has been with me through this last year and the many other times in my life, whether it was for only a day or a lifetime, I will never forget the love, compassion, mercy, happiness, and peace you have given to me and many others. Here is to one year down and many more to come. Love you all!