So many great blessings this week... I almost feel guilty that I am sad and angry.

I miss Scott and I'm angry that he's not here. I haven't really felt anger yet. I've run away, been disappointed in myself, gotten lost in the service of others, felt sadness and pain, but not really experienced anger.As I raced to the hospital to see Mo on Tuesday I couldn't help but think of the day that Scott's oldest little girl was born...I stopped to buy flowers and got broadsided by a drunk driver. When I got to the hospital his wife had been in labor for so many hours (38?) and was on oxygen. He was so young, and grateful for her, and the new life he held in his arms and for each of us--that's the first time I remember Scott giving me a hug and telling me he loved me (we weren't a very affectionate family as you can tell) As we stood and looked at Mo through the nursery window--my mom commented on all the things we'd like to ask her--and how our loved ones are?

I feel really bad when I feel anger toward Scott. How can I be angry at someone who isn't here to communicate with...? I know in my head that it doesn't affect anyone but me... and that I need to keep enduring in faith... but having that written in my heart is another matter that I'm consistently working on. How does one healthily experience anger toward a loved one now gone?

I would give anything to pick up the phone and hear: "hey loser what's up?" Said with all the cynical love of an older brother. (Note: don't get any ideas. If you try this thinking you're funny--I will hunt you down and take all of my misdirected anger out on you.) It's probably good my only client this evening was sick because it may have been a real deep tissue massage with the way I feel... I'm kind of kidding and really much more able to compartmentalize my life than that.

Why do I miss Scott? If you knew Scott... you'd know this is a stupid question. It's snowmobile season. The Jazz are playing--he's not here to get warnings with the NBA for yelling at the games, he's not here to tell the players they're better on playstation--or not on playstation at all. Brad & Abby just had the most beautiful little girl--and Scott would've appreciated the 'bluish-purple, cone-headed alien looking' description Brad posted on the blog. He'd be so happy for Brad. I wish he'd met Abby. The Superbowl is coming--I'm sure he'd have a Superbowl party. He'd tell me how lame he thought Jason's actions have been--although Brad did a pretty good job of that... He told me how he thought of Jason as he cut Mo's umbilical cord...

I'm in the classes I was in the semester that Scott died--it wasn't my best semester. Within a month I got hit by a truck while jogging, stalked and Scott died.

I'll never forget the day I got hit by the truck, I'm in the hospital--internal bleeding--trying to be positive--my home-teachers are there and I make the comment that I'm glad I prayed before I ran... to which Scott replies: "if you hadn't, you'd have been 30 seconds ahead of the truck." He later sent me a text that said "you'll be ok Sammy says she loves you." [Note: Sammy was a year old and didn't talk]. Or the time my organs shut down and Scott sent me flowers with an ugly purple teddy bear and a card that said, "alright you've gotten some attention now stop faking it." You had to know Scott to understand.

It's pretty brutal to realize that when I started these classes in 2006 I had no idea what the near future held. Just busy as I'd always chosen with Relief Society, MTC, school and boys... entirely oblivious. And then it all came crashing down--more like a house of cards than a house of faith. I didn't want to face any of these feelings--so I picked a nice beach 3,000 miles away and chose the gospel.

I appreciate a friend today that just allowed me to feel, another who didn't tell me what I felt was right or wrong and another inspired to share 2 Nephi 4:26-35... And if you disagree and think I should be 'over it' or that these feelings aren't valid--take a deep breath, step back and remind yourself this is Ashley's blog and I don't have to read it...