Mama Clee

The irony of this post is that you will never see it. I still think to this day, you're the only one that has been reading my blog faithfully since 2008. I think I really only kept it up for you. Thank heavens I did- over 10 years of our lives documented.

Clea Marie- you were one of the first employees I had as a new manager at UOPX. I had no idea what I was doing. I was young and dumb with minimal life experience and a naivety that ran deep. I know you tried to protect me by keeping weekend team shenanigans hidden and you made sure people kept their swears to a minimum. You never had had a "real" job outside the home. I was your first "boss" a mere 10 years younger than you. It's like we arrived at that place to learn together. We spent LOTS of time wondering what time it was in California and me teaching you to use a computer. I always was your spell checker and I'll never forget our conversation about dress code (never forget the school girl outfit) and how you were spending too much time talking to Gary on your work phone. I remember telling you how you were smoking "the entire month of February" because you took so many breaks. In the end, you could do whatever you wanted- you always worked hard and ALWAYS found students in the most unlikely of places. Your phone voice was one for the records, "flirt to convert". 

You were there when I bought my first Tiffany bracelet. You helped me scour the cases and buy the heavy chained bracelet I still wear. I remember texting you right after Mc was born and you and Jason Weeks were the FIRST ones to come to the hospital with gifts and love. You brought food, made sure my hair didn't look a mess and could be brutally honest without hurting feelings. You stood up to Sarah Lovell and laughed uncontrollably at the most inopportune times. That's Clea. 

When I moved back to Utah, I wasn't sure I would still get to "see" you every day and then when I came back to telecommute, we all converted to Skype. Your little green dot meant that we could chat every day. And chat every day we did. From 2009 to February 2019 when you just couldn't work anymore. You were there every morning for me to talk about my busy weekends and to tell you all about my crazy. Constant. I remember crying to you about Mc peeing all over the floor, when I lost Mark to the demogorgon, all about my church drama (Even though you really had no point of reference), my daily plans, and every rumor about UOPX that was ever spoken. 

I knew you were sick. I guess I didn't really understand how sick. I think you protected me (and everyone else) from that too. I was so grateful that Sarah Landis and I were able to visit at the end of January when the Drs gave you 3-6 months to live. Gary told me not to be surprised that you looked different. I was most surprised by your thin fingers and the shade of your skin- the disease was taking you. We spent the weekend together and that was the last time you left the house- that was almost too much. We cooked, cleaned and I rubbed your feet while we watched "Dumplin". I asked if you were scared to die, you said "no" most matter of factly. You said you would come back as an elephant to remind us you were still there. I hugged you for a long time and left you. 

Bless Marco Polo. 

March 25, 2019. I texted Gary that I was heading to bed at almost 9 PM. My phone rang, it was Gary. I knew. You hadn't been eating for almost two weeks. You had been up "packing", preparing for a trip- your final trip. Hospice was shocked you had been hanging on this long. You took your last breath and silently slipped away to a place where you no longer are in pain and can feel the Savior's undying love for you. You left a huge hole here. I am not sure there is another person who was more selfless. There aren't many people who lose themselves in finding other people to help and lift. You never judged- it was just love. You made the world a better place by being here. I will miss you terribly, Clee. 

My sweet Mc.