JERUSALEM!!!!

Hi everyone! You may have already guessed from my title here, but I have been officially accepted to the Jerusalem Center!!!! I'm really excited, though I'm still not sure where the money is going to come from. I am still accepting freewill donations of every kind. Thanks to those who have contributed, no matter how small the amount, and thanks to those who have expressed desire to help even if they don't have the means to do so.
Anyway, I am working on a student loan, so I don't want anyone to fill bad if they can't help. I think I will be alright. My scholarship covers the cost of tuition, so with that help and the donations I have received, I only have 76.5% of the money left to pay.
That probably sounds like a lot, but it is way better than having 100% to pay, and I have until the end of November to make the final payment.
Anyway, I'm really excited! Here are some pictures of Jerusalem so you can see what I'm getting in to:
















































Currently Reading:
Crime and Punishment
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Relations in Public
by Erving Goffman
The Gambler
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Forms of Talk
by Erving Goffman

Good news . . . kind of

Well, I am back in Provo, now. I think tomorrow is going to be weird, back to work and back to school. Part of me wants to go back, part of me wishes that I didn't have to. I hate duality of feeling. I wish it was always the same. It gets confusing when I have two contradictory feelings because I don't always know which one to listen to. In this case, the choice is obvious, I need to go back to school, but that is not always true. Often the choice is not so clear cut.
Anyway, now for the sort of good news. I have been "assigned a position on the 2008 Winter Semester Program at the BYU Jerusalem Center for Near Easter Studies!" Here comes the contradictory feelings again. Part of me is very glad (all I have to do for official acceptance is have a final admission interview) because this is something I have wanted to do for a very long time. But at the same time, I kind of wish I would have known what was going to happen this semester before I applied, maybe then I wouldn't have applied. Then again, maybe that is exactly why things happened the way they did. Its so hard to tell sometimes.
Studying in Jerusalem has been my dream since I heard that the center was reopening. But the desire to go to Jerusalem started a long time before that. It was actually one of the last things that my brother and I were planning on doing. On a whim, I asked him if he would go see Jerusalem with me. He, like always, readily agreed, and we began "planning" our trip, though we knew it would not happen for a few more years in the future. We, nonetheless, knew that it would happen someday. Just as we planned to go to Nauvoo for the temple dedication, and made it happen, we would make this happen. Unfortunately, we never got that chance. When I first thought of studying in Jerusalem, I felt like this would be a way to fulfill our dream. Now I have another reason. My mom was fully supportive of my decision to study in Jerusalem. In fact, I think you could say that since it was my dream, it was her dream, too.
The only real problem, besides my contradictory emotions, is finding the money to actually do it. The first installment is due Oct. 16 and the rest of the money is due by Nov. 26. That's quite a bit of time, and I only hope it will give me enough time to find the money. I am waiting for a student loan to go through, but I have been waiting for a long time and don't know how much longer I have to wait.
So, here is my plug. If you feel so inclined to contribute to my "Send Rachel to Study in Jerusalem" Fund, feel free to help! I am currently accepting check or money order, but am unable to accept credit cards! :) Ok, I am joking, but if you would like to help, I'm not too proud to take it.

Currently Reading:
The Queen of Spades
by Aleksandr Pushkin

Aftershock

I don't even know how to start this entry. Yesterday was my mother's funeral. It was at the same time both harder than I expected and not as hard as I thought it would be. Its still weird to me how a person can have dual feelings at the same time, but I remember it being that way after my brother died, too.
I drove up to Bismarck with my older sister, my grandparents, and my mom's baby sister with her two kids. We arrived Thursday morning and I was so happy to finally get here. I'll never forget that first meeting with my dad. I could see all the sorrow in his face. I've never had to lose my eternal companion (and I hope I never will), but I could feel a little of his pain in the expression on his face.
That day, I did one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Along with my grandparents and my dad, I went to the funeral home to dress my mother. They had her on a table and as soon as I saw her I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The tears flowed the entire time we were dressing her, but I was glad to be able to do this one last act of service for her.
The next day, a lot of family started arriving. This was Friday. My dad, older sister, and I drove up to the cemetery to pay for the plots (my dad bought 4 so he could be next to my mom and just in case, though he hopes he can sell the other 2 later). They already had the hole dug for my mom. She isn't too far from Clarence, you can see his grave from hers.
That night we had the viewing from 5-8. All of our family was there for the entire time, and then others came and went. One of my dad's sisters and her family were there, along with my dad's mom, then one of my mom's brothers and one sister were there as well as my mom's parents. There were many flowers, maybe even more than when my brother died, though I really don't remember the flowers from that. Before the viewing, we put the veil on my mother and I placed her fan in her hand. You never would have seen her without that fan, especially in the temple. I think other people cried more than I did at the viewing. Its weird, when my brother died, tears came so easily, but now it is so hard. They don't come very often at all. Most of the time I still feel numb, like it couldn't possibly be true.
The next day was the funeral service. We went a little before 9 and it was a good thing, too, because no one had come to unlock the church doors. My dad let the funeral home people in and they started setting up. We put some pictures of our family in my mom's coffin, and placed her scriptures inside as well. Then we waited. Not too many people came in to the room. Maybe they thought it was for family only because the room was filled with our family. One of my dad's other sisters had also arrived and she was there. Two more of my mom's brothers and one more sister also were there as well as those who had been at the viewing the previous night. It was nice to have so much family there.
My two best friends came in a few minutes before 10:00 and we had the family prayer before exiting the room. We went in to the chapel and I was happy to see so many people there. One of my best friend's mom was there. I was glad to see her, even though I didn't get to talk to her afterwards. Our neighbors from across the street came as well (I didn't see them until after the service was over), and many people from my dad's work and from our ward.
The service was really nice. My mom's sister, Patti, gave the Eulogy, I spoke, and my grandpa (mom's dad) spoke. Then we headed over to the cemetery in a funeral procession. In Bismarck (and probably in other places), a funeral procession has the right of way. We don't have to stop for lights or other traffic, but unfortunately traffic is not always cooperative here. That was very annoying to me. Its like no one has any respect for what others are going through.
My dad dedicated the grave, and we stood around talking with people for a little while afterwards. Then we went back to the church for the luncheon prepared for our family. It was all very nice. Soon after, my dad's family left to go back to Utah. We went home, and I got a little nap in. Then my mom's family took us out to eat at the Golden Corral, and we went back to their hotel to talk and play games. It was a very long day, but we made it through.
Today we are going to take flowers to my brother's and my mom's grave. Now comes the hard part. Day by day, the reality of what has happened will begin to sink in. But more than I worry about what is going to become of my, I wonder what will happen to my dad? What will happen to my younger sisters who are home. They will have a constant reminder, every minute that they are home. Our house feels so empty without my mom, and emptiness is more painful than you might think.

The picture here was taken almost a year ago in the beautiful city of Engels on the Volga River. The Elders wrote this sign in the snow to take pictures to send home. I couldn't resist getting a picture of my own.

Currently Reading:
Notes From the Underground
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Beyond Translation
by A. L. Becker

Хуже и хуже

Well, here I am, once again, the bringer of bad news. Here I am wide awake in the early morning hours, unable to sleep, unable to rest, unable to forget. If you haven't figured it out by now, my mom died this morning (the picture above is my mom in High School). She is gone. How is it possible for things to have progressed so quickly? 3 weeks ago we had no idea things were this serious. 2 weeks ago we learned that she had cancer, 2 days ago we learned that it was terminal. The doctors said she had less than 6 months to live. Their calculations were way off.
Have you ever felt disconnected from your surroundings? That's how I feel right now. I am living in a state of denial because otherwise I could not function. Why does so much sorrow and so much hurt have to come to my family? Why can't we just live happily ever after like characters in fairy tales? But that is not possible. Life never works like it does in fairy tales. Sometimes the bad guys DO win, and often the hero dies. . .
But amidst all of the feelings and lack of feelings, I can only wonder, what will come of my dad? My dad may not be a man of many words, but he loves his family, and he loves his wife. I've only seen my dad cry once, and that was after the death of my brother. But I heard him cry this morning when he called to tell me what had happened. How will he survive? How will he get on in the day to day things that my mother always did? Every day he will wake up in an empty bed, reminded of what he is missing. Every day he will have to do the things that my mom always did, pay bills, do taxes, run errands, cook, clean, drive my sisters around. Each time, he will be reminded of what is gone.
Then there is the rest of my family. I can't speak for my other siblings, but my mom for me was the center of the home. I always wanted to be where she was, so I could talk to her, hear her voice. I called her at least once a week, often times more. I called her when I needed advice, when I had a problem, when something exciting happened, when I was sad, and I even called her just because, just because I was walking home from school and had time, just because I felt like talking to her. My mom has been such a big part of my life, I can't imagine how I will get through the rest of it without her. She helped me come to terms with my brother's death, but who will help me come to term with hers?

Devastation

Yesterday was officially the second worst day of my life. For those of you who know me well, you already know what the worst day was. The second, however, didn't begin so horribly.
I woke up outside on a mattress. This may sound strange, but it wasn't a prank, I actually moved the mattress out there and fell asleep under the stars, along with a few other girls (all of whom are RMs, go figure, huh? - see above picture). I woke up and it was chilly outside, but it felt so nice. The sky was beautiful. It was a great morning.
After everyone was up and we had moved all the mattresses back inside, I came home. I got ready for the day and began working on some homework I wanted to get done. In the process, I realized there was something I needed to ask Sara. So I called and talked to her. That began the down hill ride of my second worst day.
While talking to her, my sister told me that our dad had told her and my other sister, Elizabeth, to wait up for him that night since there was something he needed to tell them about our mom. I didn't know what it was, but I began to feel dread. I could only imagine that it was bad news.
Around 3:30 or 4:00, my dad called from my mother's hospital room. The news he had was definitely not good news. The results had come back from a test the oncologist ran and the doctor informed my dad that the cancer is terminal. All they can do for her right now is try and make her as comfortable as possible and try and extend the time she has left. They give her less than 6 months to live.
I'm sure most of you can't imagine what that feels like, to suddenly discover that your mother will most likely be dead in 6 months, but I can tell you exactly how I felt . . . devastated. It is one of those things in life that you can't do anything to change or make better. Nothing can be done.
Since then, I've had several bouts of crying, usually brought on by the realization that someday soon my mother will be gone. And I wonder what will be come of my family. How will we get on without her?

Currently Reading:
White Nights
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Double
by Fyodor Dostoevsky