Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Heroes

My dad is mine. He always has been, and always will be.
Here is why.
As a little girl, whenever I got the flu my hero would let me sleep in his bed, and as I rested, he had his hand placed gently on my tummy, as a reassurance that I wasn't alone and that he would be there to protect me. 
Also as a spunky little redhead, we would play this family game called "muffin child". I was a scrawny little thing and my dad would sit on the ground, and raise me above his head. Jamiin and Devin had to try and "get" me (whatever that means). They never "got" me because my hero always made sure that they couldn't. 

As a teenager, my hero always took an active role in getting to know my friends. He wanted me to be surrounded by the best people, and I am SO grateful that he did.
As a young woman, my hero has ALSO taken an active role in who I date. Even when I was attending college out of state, he would want daily updates on my love life. :)

On my mission, my hero sent me weekly letters that I desperately needed. Messages of hope, testimony and experience that gave me the push that I needed to continue when I didn't think I could. 

Since June 2013, when I returned home, I have seen some rough times, but my hero has always sent a meaningful text at the start and end of each day. 

Each of these experiences play into why my Dad is my hero, but there is one act, the most heroic of all, that I want to share.
Since October, my hero has been really sick. The tables turned to where HE was the one in distress....but I couldn't rescue him like he always rescued me. No, this time, we BOTH needed rescuing. I remember the first time I saw him in his hospital bed, October 15, 2013. I could hardly step into the room. My heroine, my Mom, had her arm around me and led me to my hero's side. I half expected him to open up his eyes and smile at me, letting me know he was ok. But no, his eyes didn't open....he didn't smile. I so desperately needed him to know I was there for him. I took his hand and said,"Hi Papi, I love you." 

I guess I didn't expect anything in response, and as I watched his face to see a flutter of his eyes, or a flicker of a smile, I didn't see anything. My senses were so acutely tuned to any physical response, that if they hadn't been they would have missed the softest, weakest three hand squeezes that he gave.
That is one of the ways we say "I love you" in our family. Three hand squeezes. He told me he loved me. With all that we found out about his health in the days that followed, it became more and more clear to me that my hero fought through pain, weakness, fear, fog, and even death just to tell me he loved me. And he has continued doing so for the past 100 days. 

The two greatest heroic acts that have ever been performed are these:
First, when my Savior gave his life for me.
Second, when my Dad chose life, for me. 

And that is that. I am one blessed gal. Today I am grateful to spend the day with my hero. He is doing so well you guys. We had a crazy hectic day yesterday, but today, he rocked everyone's world by walking 2500 feet in 25 minutes. WITHOUT resting. And, *spoiler alert*, there is talk of him going home, (with a boat load of assistance) in a couple of weeks. 

Yep. Thanks, once again, for listening. :)

With love,
The Baers
My hero and I, as he did his physical therapy today!




Friday, January 17, 2014

Guest Post: Sorella Baer

oh my heart.

Pavia's the merriest place. Literally I love it here. My beautiful sweet companion, Sorella Carter and I WORSHIP each other. We absolutely adore each other and the work is so so so so so fun. Her italian is exceptional and we teach so seamlessly. We're just homies and laugh all the days. Best part? she goes to the Y too. nbd. 

Pavia has so many people. We teach tons and tons of lessons, and just run around the city. Guys, life is so good. 

In these days all we speak is Spanish. We have quite a few investigators from South America and Central America, so I've been improving my spagnolo. So shout out to all of my spanish  speaking missionaries-- goodness, hopefully we'll understand each other! 

This email will be really short because there's no time these days! But I love Pavia. We had a woman named Xenia get baptized on Saturday! She's from El Salvador. Obviously, I had nothing to do with her conversion because I just got here. But she's literally so so so elect. She met with the missionaries for the first time exactly one month ago! and just barely got baptized! I adore her. She's taught me so much and we're just soul sisters. 

I love being a missionary. I love declaring who I am and why I'm here. Missionary work is absolutely the most rewarding thing out there.

Serve someone and bear your testimony! 

Con tutto del mio amore,
Sorella Baer

p.s. I love you. 

Friday, January 10, 2014

Mountains...

Yes, the mountains here in Utah are breathtaking. That is one of the main reasons why Papa wanted to move here to Utah, and boy am I grateful! 

Let's be honest for a sec, this post isn't going to be about the glorious splendor of the Wasatch Mountains, no, I think we all know that this will allude to Papa Baer in some way.

As a family we have been on a three month climb up a very tall mountain. We've gotten to know the rocky terrain quite well, but we often encounter unanticipated twists and turns. Sometimes instead of the normal upward climb, we need to scale some steep slopes. This week was one of those surprises. :)

The week started off amazing, Papa was walking more than ever, and on Monday, he even began to tackle the stair portion of his physical therapy! Tuesday, we started to notice a few out of the ordinary occurrences. After running a few tests, we got some news. Papa has suffered a few more strokes, nothing major thank goodness, and we aren't sure on the specific damage just yet. To make matters a little worse, he has spiked a fever which indicates an infection somewhere. 

We are continue to be grateful for the prayers offered in his/our behalf. 

The thing is, as disheartening as some days are, we are still climbing. There is still MORE we can accomplish, this isn't a hopeless feat. Keep that in mind. 

And for your viewing pleasure, I am posting a link on here to a song that helped me persevere through some tough times on my LDS mission. I love the lyrics and the message.

Thanks for reading,
The Baers

PS, if you plan on visiting, we ask that if you or others you have been around have not been sick recently! Papa's immune system is still quite fragile! Thanks!

Beautiful Heartbreak by Hilary Weeks


Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Guest Post: Sorella Baer


yup dear friends. judging by the subject title, Sorella Baer's getting transferred! after spending 6 months, a whole third of her mission in Como, she's headed to Pavia! 

(here's what I know about Pavia: it's about 40 minutes outside of Milano, it's a university city, they had 8 baptisms last transfer, and we'll be on bikes! Yes I know. Sorella Baer, on a bike, in the rain, with crazy italian driving, in a skirt-- I can't wait:) I'll have ANOTHER Sorella Carter as my beautiful companion! Right now, I live with two OTHER Sorella Carters. it's crazy, they're overtaking our mission! My new companion's a couple groups below me, and we already love each other! I've met her at zone conferences, and she's darling! stoked!

and yet, anyone who knows me, knows how much I'm absolutely obsessed with my favorite Como. I'm sad to leave my beloved Sorella Brown (she goes home next transfer), all of the members, my dear Nazareno, all of it. I can't quite think about it, or I become sad. This city's carried me through my truly darkest hours, and I've been nearer to heaven here. Goodness, even now, in the internet point, I have tears in my eyes thinking about parting with a place and a people so sacred and precious to me. Como will forever be holy ground for me, as I've stepped into the Garden of Gethsemane here, and tasted of the sweetness of love of the Savior more here than at any other time in my life. I feel inexplicably blessed, so so chosen, to have been here, met the people I have,  and see these sweet Comaschi draw closer to Christ. I truly can't wait to return. The Lord is blessing me with remarkable peace about this whole transfer news. I'm not anxious, nervous, or overly sad. Just... in italian, diciamo, ''tranquilla''--I'm just filled with peace. I know it's right. In fact, teeny miracle: right before the transfer call, our bishop's wife Sorella Delfino called and asked me if I knew yet where I was going. I said no. Then I got the call. Best part? the Delfino's, a young couple, who are some of my favorite members, are BOTH from Pavia! both of their families are there! I immediately called her back, and said, ''Sorella!!!! Vado a Pavia!!'' she was so excited! she told me that if it was ok now that I leave, since I'll be with her family who she visits often! life is good folks. truly. 

Nazareno came back from the temple and was beaming. Saying good-bye to him was so hard. I'm seen him from the ground up. Oh goodness, I can't think about this. I can only cry so much in this little internet point. Just know that with him, the Lord's taught me so much about the Atonement. 

ughhhh... I'm all over the place. I can't quite believe I'm going! after so long! saying good-bye to members has been killing me, but the beautiful part is that, this isn't ''arrivederci'', just ''ci vediamo''

Spiritual Insight: this one's for all of the fellow missionaries out there. 

This came to me as we sang a hymn in Italian ''Siam la real armata'' (Behold the Royal Army). Us missionaries are truly His missionaries. He's saved and called us for this time becasue He's not looking for indifferent, apathetic, or passive soldiers. We're here to ACT. This is a gospel of activity, not of passivity.

Each of us enlisted in this battalion by CHOICE. We weren't drafted. We chose. We enlisted OURSELVES. 

Every morning we suit up. We grab our armor: our name tag (not only shows who we are but endows and equips us with the mantle and authority of our calling). Our weapon: our Book of Mormon and testimony. We head out everyday, ready to defend His name. As we put on our nametag every day, we're saying to our King, ''I will.'' Everyday, putting on that tag, we recommit. We've chosen. We've suited up. Now it's time to protect and arm ourselves and then go forward boldly. 

We are as the army of Helaman, where it says in Alma 56:46, ''Let us go forth.''

I hope each of you know that I have chosen. My dye has been cast. I've stepped over the line. I will never look back. I have said to my Creator, ''I will.'' And I will boldly go forth and represent Him and stand in His place.

Let us remember our calling.

I feel so privileged to be one of His soldiers at this time.

Con tutto del mio amore,
Sorella Baer

p.s. I love you. 
p.p.s. this picture is of my beautiful Como TODAY. goodness, it's breathtaking. 

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Wanderings and Ponderings

Happy Sunday everyone! This post won't be too much about Papa, although he is doing better every day, showing signs of amazing progress, and always making us smile. We love him.

Tonight I thought I would share a little bit about some ponderings I have had whilst wandering through this life of mine. I work, I study, I buy groceries now and then...I make excellent use of the Taco Bell drive-thru. I visit with a lot of different people, in a lot of different places. On October 15, 2013 my life changed forever. My normally rote schedule was halted...and even the most mundane tasks turned into seemingly large acts of courage of heroism. And life continued that way for a long while. Even now, I sometimes find myself sheepishly shrinking away from those normal, every day things...because sometimes it is just a little too strenuous. 

This experience has also brought out the hallmark characteristics of a "white-type" personality (color code personality test) in me. I find myself trying to blend in with the wallpaper so I can avoid interaction with those out of my tight-knit circle of friends and loved ones. This anti-social camo I have put on has also allowed me an insane amount of time to think and people watch. At the beginning of all this, whenever I was in a group of people who didn't know me or the situation, I would often think, "How can they go on? My DAD, Papa Baer, is in the hospital fighting for his life!" or "How can they not KNOW".  With something so significant, how could everyone else not FEEL what I was feeling. Wasn't their world thrown off of it's orbit too?

After a few days of this, I had an "ah-ha" moment. How many other people are experiencing the same sort of thoughts and feelings? I wouldn't wish heartache on anyone, and I became very interested in who could be hurting. So, as I sat and analyzed, I was able to recognize those little outward characteristics that I show, in others. Understanding that other people were struggling with rocked worlds and what not softened me. Seeing other families in the ICU struggling to cope with their own life change gave me, and our family, an opportunity to turn outward. We understood, and so we acted.

I am so grateful for the opportunities presented to our family to give service amidst a trial so bittersweet.  To serve is one of the greatest privileges we have as people. There is no greater joy one can experience than to lift hands that hang low, or to turn a frown upside-down. 

I know that this is SO cliche, but honestly people, take it from a chick who knows. If you are looking for a sweet release from a bitter burden, look for others to serve. Service is a balm that can ease pain. 

Yeah so that about sums it up. :)

Have a nice evening!
Aubrey

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Auld Lang Syne

Ringin' in the new year in every way possible folks. Just apply the word "new" to any possible situation, and that basically describes the past week. It was all just....new. 

Papa moved up to his hospital in Murray, and we (including the medical staff) are all just trying to get used to one another. We're trying to get a feel for how things work, quirks, no-nos, you name it. It is almost like a new transfer as a missionary. 

Things are going well though, they are working Papa hard, physical therapy-ing it whenever they get the chance. Papa also has been given some leeway with the whole ice chip situation, but sometimes he takes advantage of that little cup of chilled goodness and sneaks it off of his nightstand when none of us are looking. Keeps us on our toes.

Also, they have put a speaking valve on his trach, which allows him to communicate more verbally with us. It has been the BEST thing ever. I was at work one day and my Mom called my cell, which confused and worried me greatly, she knew I was at work! She left a voicemail too, to which I listened...but instead of her it was my Dad. For the first time in 2.5 months, I heard his voice. It was bliss!

Yeah so happy new year, happy new everything. And just plain happy happy. :)

xoxoxox
The Baers