Charles James Cohoon passed away Monday evening. Grandpa raised Paul and so he's essentially lost his father. It has been a rough week. We take comfort in the fact that he is in a better place. He is not in pain. He is no longer afflicted with a brain injury. He is at peace.

We, on the other hand, are very sad with his passing. We miss him. We are sad that he won't be able to physically attend Paul's graduation and be there for other life events.  We are glad for the plan of salvation and temple work and look forward to the day when Paul can do the work for Grandpa.

So far this really hasn't been our year.  We've had many reasons to be sad and depressed, and we've spent our fair share of time feeling that way. The day before Grandpa died I had a sort of breakdown at church. Everyone was kind and friendly, but you know when you're trying to hold it all together and then someone asks, "how are you feeling?" and then all your feelings just rush out in the form of tears? That was Sunday.  We left after Sacrament meeting and went for a drive. We drove up to the temple and talked about how hard everything has been (we knew Grandpa was going to pass this week) and about how we have to decide to focus on our blessings even during our trials.  I think we both felt at peace for at least the rest of the day.

As with all aching holes in the heart, this one will take time to heal.  I hope that the next ten months are more pleasant than the last two.

Paul got me these the day before. I LOVED them.

How cute is he?

For play school I printed out this preschool pack to do with James. He absolutely LOVED it (of course, he absolutely loves all the "school" stuff we do together).

Because it was a week night and Paul didn't get home until 9 pm, I decided we'd go low-key. I cut hearts out of pepperoni and made some homemade pizza. I also made Paul a strawberry  chiffon pie (because Paul loves pie).  Then I blew up the air mattress and brought out our blankets and pillows and we watched Lady and the Tramp.  I put these little gift bags together for Paul and James:

James' bag

Paul's bag

 It was so much better than our first Valentine's Day when Paul told me to dress warm and that he had a surprise for me. So we get in the car and he takes me to church distribution to buy me scriptures. He's such a romantic. Ha ha ha ha. And that's when I took over the planning for Valentine's Day.  This year he bought me what we refer to as the rose bush. These flowers must have weighed like 20 pounds!



 Whenever I read other people talking all mushy about their spouses I sort of get squeamish...and sort of jealous at the same time because we don't do mush. I didn't marry Mr. Darcy. I know, shocker! When I see women comparing their men to Mr.Darcy I don't believe them. I don't think Mr. Darcy would pass gas in bed or watch football all day or leave his dirty underwear on the bathroom floor. It's called fiction for a reason.

It was in the midst of my miscarriage that I realized just how unimportant mush is. Paul took off nearly a week from work. He cooked. He cleaned. He went to the store in the middle of the night to get some medicine because I was miserable and constipated (I know, I know, TMI, but it's a harsh reality of my recovery and it sucked) and he came back with medicine and some fiber drink mixes and a watermelon. He knows me. He knows what I like and he thinks about me all the time.  He cares for our son. He's always ready to use his priesthood if we need it.

He may not write me fluffy love letters or stand in the rain and gush, but the man is a fantastic husband and I love him.

I hope you all had a wonderful Valentine's Day!