Blasting Neighbors!

When Scott was about eleven we went to Toys-R-Us and I bought him a Super Soaker 3000 water gun.
We filled it up, and then pumped the action - which had a working gauge to show how much pressure had built up in the tank.
Scott went over to where the Watson's were shooting eachother with water guns and let loose with his new one-man arsenal...
Let me just say, I have never seen such an astounding blast of water from any squirt gun in my life - it was more of a fire hydrant. The range was jaw-dropping.
It took around eight seconds for the gun to run out of water, but it only took about six for everyone to be drenched...
Mom asked me to take it back because some of the kids were crying.

Ordinary Days, Extraordinary Scott

I just keep thinking of how much I loved just being in Scott's presence. Joy is a great word to describe it! Oh how my boys loved and continue to love him. After a long day trip to St. George, we were riding home. I thought the boys in the back seat were asleep, but Ethan suddenly started crying. "I would die for Scott....he was just so kind."

Hearing this has moved me not just because I wish I could have saved him somehow, too, but because of the deep love that his family has for him.

I had a thought over the weekend-- that my grief that Scott has died is great, very great. But also, there came a time when that close, cuddly, "come 'ere Scott, let's read....let's play....let's go in the back yard and jump" time came to a close. Oh how I miss that season! I never really consciously grieved over what a huge change, what a loss that was after moving out. So when I cry I think it's because of how much I miss Scott, how sorry I am for how much he suffered, and I hurt for the change that inevitably took place with growing up. Perhaps this why the grief over a death of someone so dear is not simple-- there are many facets to the mourning...

IRON MAN

I remember how much Scott loved Iron Man.
I keep going on YouTube to watch the: Iron Man Intro (1996).
Scott LOVED Samurai Armor Iron Man!!!
He used to draw him over and over.

I remember coming home from work, from Provo Canyon School in the mornings...I worked the graveyard shift. On weekends, Scott and I would go downstairs with our blankets and cold cereal and watch Iron Man, Spider-Man, and the Fantastic Four, all back-to-back.

Our ultimate favorite of them all was a certain episode of Fantastic Four when all the Marvel Superheroes showed up to fight Galactus. Galactus had come to destroy earth, and was kicking ALL of their butts!!!
Next thing you know you see a flame off in the distance, and a motorcycle come roaring through the city. Ghost Rider rolls in on his burning chopper, comes to a stop right in front of Galactus, looks up, and using his pyschic ability totally blasts Galactus. Galactus falls - leaving a crater.
Without a word Ghost Rider turns around and takes off.

We laughed and cheered. It was the coolest EVER!!!

Waiting and Working

I spoke with our bishop again last Sunday.
He referred me to a counselor at LDS Family Services.
He also said that in his life experiences the depression following the death of a close loved one feels very deep, and very permanent...
But that with time the depression passes - that it's temporary.
However, he said that I need to let Jesus Christ atone for what has happened; that the atonement is infinite and all-encompassing. He said that as soon as I lay my burden at the feet of Christ, and know that he has more than taken care of it that my deep pain and bitterness will be gone.
Basically - he told me to live my religion.
I have encountered, as we all have, some really incredible trials in our lives, and while I thought I've applied the atonement through my life this situation has shown me that the atonement goes much deeper than I ever realized - much deeper than my hurt.
Jesus atoned for the sins of us all. He was perfect, and our mediator with the Father. He is our elder brother, and our Savior. Our Redeemer.

Lots of Tabasco, please

One holiday when I came home to visit from college, I offered to make some eggs for Scott. He said "OK, but I like my eggs with lots of cheese and Tabasco-- not just a little Tabasco-- a TON." So I commenced in making a pan of super cheesey eggs with maybe 1/16-1/8 bottle of Tabasco. I thought while I was making them, "I hope these aren't way too hot." When he ate them, he said they were perfect. Whenever I reach for a bottle of Tabasco, I am reminded of how much Scott liked to "kick things up" and make life more interesting. So easily I slip into a mundane state of being, forgetting that there are ways to live more fully, doing the best with who I am and what I have got. I hope to change that because of Scott.

I loved hearing about the crawdads. (Even if I can't completely appreciate the male bonding that happened there.) : )

~E

Scott, Sammy & the Crawdads

When Scott was about 12 or 13, he, Sammy Bonfante and I went fishing at Schofield reservoir.

As we were launching the canoe, we noticed that we could easily see to the bottom of the lake, which was 7 to 10 feet deep by the shore. It was beautiful! Then we noticed that hundreds of crawdads were crawling along the bottom very close to shore. So, we caught a fish, cleaned it, tied its entrails to a string and tossed them into the water to attract the crawdads. We had a blast catching about 60 to 80 of them. We then went out in the canoe and caught a bunch of trout.

We brought dozens of crawdads home and Scott and Sammy put them in a little plastic swimming pool in our back yard, after de-chlorinating the water. But they died anyway and what a stink they made! The whole neighborhood smelled like rotting crawdads! Anyone living within 100 yards downwind of our house was probably tormented by the stench. Even after we put the dead crawdads in double plastic bags, they still stunk. A neighbor, Lisa Jensen, walked by our house and protested about the stench in her delightful way, which made Scott and me laugh. For weeks after the trash had been collected, our dumpster still smelled like dead crawdads, even after hosing it out.

The memory of the fishing trip, watching Scott and Sammy catch the crawdads and fish and bringing them home still puts a smile on my face. (I wonder if the girls in the family understand the feeling of ecstacy that guys get from stuff like that?)
Love,
Dad Hughes

Wow it hurts today

Every time I seem to pull it together, my eyes start flowing again. Wow I miss Scott!

I feel moments of exhilaration of the incredible experience he must be having right now, and other times it just seems like too much to comprehend that he's not here now.

I remember how much I missed Robert when he was on his mission, how much I cried when Dan left to the Marine Corps, how we looked forward to a letter marked with Brazilian postage from Jon... and man, it seems like missing Scott is just going to be a permanent part of me till I see him again, just the way it was with my other brothers' temporary absence.

Sarah and I decided when Scott was about 8 or 9, that we would try to simulate the experience of having a younger sibling for him. I took one of my dolls and got her dressed up. We told Scott he needed to take care of her. I played the voice of the doll, saying "I'm cold! I'm hungry!" Scott bustled about the house, getting everything for her that she wanted. After that, she whined and cried and said she needed something else. Scott rolled his eyes and sighed with this parental type of burden that he was enthusiastically taking up. He was really so caring; such a caring, comforting, accomodating person. Not just with my dolly, but there was never (absolutes are used often as a sign of admiration after some deaths, but really- NEVER) a time I told him about a problem that he couldn't stop and listen and offer a suggestion. I'll always be grateful for that.

~E

Just Missing Him

I'm just missing him all the time...
I think today was harder, because it was one month ago today.
I'm starting to feel like I'm learning how to perceive this situation.
I talk to him when I'm alone, and try to figure out how to make the best of my life now that he's no longer here.
I'm learning to be happy again, and my heart is beginning to grow from all the grief I've experienced through this...
I feel like I'll be a more compassionate person because of this, and I don't yet know what else.
It's like I want to do great things for him specifically, but because he isn't here I'm trying to figure out what great things I can do for others incidental to the ways he's strengthened me in this trial.

Thoughts about Scott

Dan, thank you for your posts. I am appreciative that you are inviting other family members to write about Scott on your blog-- that's very open and generous of you.

Some days I wake up and think it seems weird that the stores are open, the mail is still coming, the kids have to go to school, ....because there's not the month-long (at least) moment of silence for Scott that I wish there was. I want to see stores with darkened windows, restaurants with signs of "Come back in June" and just feel that there's a reverence set aside for such a life-changing event. It makes me wonder, as I go about my day and see people who have pain in their faces, how many others have sadness from this kind of loss.

Scott was so energetic and full of creativity, I think it was designed for him to come to a family where we could all play a part in taking care of him. As he got older, the more important thing to me was just making sure he knew he wasn't forgotten. My efforts pale next to some of the other family members', but I still know that he knew I loved him very much. But mortal love couldn't solve the depth of his pain and-- as freely as it was extended by Mom and Dad especially-- his complexities of pain and loneliness couldn't be healed here. I have been blessed with a firm assurance that he loves me and I know that he is still the Scott that we remember, only completely full of love!

There is a beautiful green mountain not even a mile from where I stand when I step out our front door. Lately it has been carressed by whispy after-rain clouds and hazy sunlight. At the peak of one of its crests, there is a home built with this sort of Asian look to it. Maybe it's my mortal need for territory for myself and loved ones, but I picture Scott in a place like this. With hardwood floors, and plenty of time for meditation and progression into his eternal future-- a future without limitations, a future infused with the power of the infinite Atonement.

Communicating with Scott through prayer I believe is not figurative or imaginative in any way. I really believe that with the power of spirit to spirit communication, he is not only hearing the words we send to him, but all the feelings of our hearts and souls that accompany the message, as well.

Cody, my 6 year old said that when we see Scott again, he'll be "Super Scott." He went on to say that super heroes are real-- "they're the spirits that are helping us."

I can hardly wait to see you Scott! I hope you're getting ready to show us all or your favorite spots.

Elaine

Ruffled Cloud

Yesterday, Christy and I planted two Ruffled Cloud Rose bushes as a memorial to Scott. They are planted on the East side of my art studio in our back yard.

Something I've been thinking about lately was the Toy Show trips Scott and I took. We went each summer for 3 years.
It was held at the Ogden County Fairgrounds.

We'd get up early, so we could beat the lines.
When we got inside we first did a quick lap around the convention center to assess the goods offered...
Then we did a "Must Have" lap, during which we bought everything we went there for... The first year it was mostly McFarlane Toys. Most importantly, The Maxx with the black isz. That figure had eluded us for about a year.
After that lap, we bought a zillion Spawn toys, and Iron Man, and Spider-man.
The one that Scott bought at the end of the first Toy Show was "Titanium Man" from the Iron Man collection. He had waited to buy it until the end of the Toy Show because he wanted to talk the seller down in price - which he did. He kept it in the package, wanting to preserve the mint condition of it. I found it, along with his collection of Iron Man comics that I bought for him as I was sorting through his closet two days after he passed away.

Association

I've been associating a lot of places with Scott. One place we now live close to - Super Target.

Scott and I had a couple of awesome times there...
One of the times was right after we went to see Godzilla at the Wynnsong Theatre. Afterwards we drove up to Super Target and bought the 3 foot action figure of Godzilla. It was great! (Much better than the movie, in fact).

Another really memorable time was when Mom & Dad went out of town. They gave me some money so Scott and I would have enough food in the house. We went to Super Target, and bought just enough food to sustain us. Then we went to the toy section and bought the huge Star Wars Rancor action figure. And the Knights of Rohan Dragon. I don't know if Mom & Dad ever found out about that one!!!

Yummy Ramen:)

Scott was such a wonderful friend, and we had lots of adventures together.
I look forward to writing about more of them.

Where is My Mind?

I must move forward with recording memories of Scott. That is what this blog is for. I must keep the memory of him alive.

Bethannne Andersen, Professor of Illustration at BYU once asked me "Do you know how we respect the departed? We say their name. Listen to yourself talk when you say a name with respect. You are giving that person POWER!!!"

I must write of Scott, and speak of him to those who knew and loved him like I did. I must always give him power.

Varying Levels of Closure

I took a few days off writing here. The funeral was yesterday, and I had to take time to work on my talk...
The funeral service was wonderful, and the chapel overflowed with people who came to honor my brother. It really touched my heart how many friends he had, and the huge range of age the congregation contained.
One of my previous neighbors, who lost her son to an accident, told me "You'll never get over this. You'll get used to it, but you'll never get over it."
I don't know what it would mean to "Get over it" but I know that Scott wouldn't have me mourning him forever. In fact, I feel a certain level of closure now. After the closeness, kindness, and healing words at the funeral I felt that I could finally go on.
I said "goodbye" to my brother. I told him that I love him, and it repaired the gaping hole I'd previously had.
One of Scott's friends, Chev, told me how he had lost his mother at a young age. He told me the grieving process can be longer and more pronounced for those who were closer to Scott. He said that it is important to talk to Scott, and to thank him every day for the goodness and happiness he brought into my life. He said that this will bring Scott's spirit closer to me, and help me feel it more. He said the expression of gratitude heals.
I am now in a different, less intense level of the same situation. I've had a few bouts with tears, but mostly I feel more calm. I have prayed and asked Heavenly Father to forgive me for not reaching out to Scott more often, and for all of my shortcomings in this situation. I am so far from being perfect.
Today my family is staying home from church. We're going to work on the home, and get it in order. We need to have the foundation of our home as we move into this week.
Last night, All the siblings except Jennifer went to celebrate Scott's birthday by seeing Iron Man. Jennifer stayed with Scott's friends; she brought alchohol to their "Goodbye to Chuglet (Scott)" party. I thought it was really cool that she stayed there and talked with people that Scott spent so much time with. I thought it was cool that she drank with them.
Chev offered to professionally frame all of Scott's Iron Man comics for me at his own expense. I accepted that he could frame the first issue, and that it will go in my studio. It comforts me so much to know that Scott had a friend like Chev.
In fact, it's been healing to see that there were so many people who loved, and love Scott. I think at times I felt like I was the only one that really saw how amazing he was, but I now see that many people saw him for who he was, and who I believe he still is.
One thing I wanted to record was Bishop Smith's remarks...A story he shared about Scott.
The Bishop's family were getting ready to paint the interior of their home. Scott showed up and asked "Can I help?"
They agreed, and the Bishop went on some errands while Scott was painting. When he returned, he saw that Scott had a more artistic form of "painting" in mind. He had painted pictures and murals all over their walls. The Bishop recalled how Scott smiled, and thanked him for letting him help, and then left.
It was so funny, and so awesome. It was totally Scott to do that.
One of my friends at work wrote me a letter. It reads, in part "Your brother lives in you. I believe with all my heart that all though our loved ones are no longer with us in the flesh, they're with us in spirit. Talk to your brother and he will hear you..."
I am at a new level of closure, but I feel as if I'm getting locked into a long-term perspective that I will adopt concerning how I will feel about this for the rest of my life. Right now it is vital for me to turn and look at every good and great thing Scott did for me and others, and express to him my love and admiration for the individual that he was, and is.
In order for me to do this, I must get our home in order. I must complete my studio, and I must move forward.
I love you, Scott.

Delusions

He talked about his band, "Devil's Country" and about how he was going to apply to the music program at UVU. We listened to a couple of his CD's in the car, and just talked about miscellaneous stuff. I feel I was boring and in auto-pilot mode.

I almost got four hours of sleep last night, and I hate that. I hate that I have already started recouperating from this trajedy.


I keep thinking how Scott was actually here in our home only three and a half weeks ago. That we talked here, that we stood in this very room. I hate thinking that we stood in my studio in the back yard, and how that same studio now houses his belongings - where I'm sorting and preparing things for his funeral this Saturday, May 3rd. It would've been his 22nd birthday.

Quicksilver

I had an extremely deep bond with Scott. It is safe to say I had a deeper bond with him than I did any other sibling. He and I did so many things together through the years, and yet I look back and see how little time I actually spent with him.
I have this concept of something I think of as "Contrast of Simultaneity of Events." It goes something like this: I went to school for four and a half years, and been in the workforce for one year. Each day of school, each day of work I've gone about in a manner of being "focused" on the task of learning and moving forward. Accomplishing myself. These years represent so many thousands of hours that Scott was around, living within a twenty minute drive, and how often did I make it a point to see him? How many more times I would have loved to see him!
To further detail this concept, there was an April 29th, 2007, 8:12am (any day, any time - the concept is consistent). Scott was alive, and I could've visited him. We could've spent the day together. And a week later, the same thing. This concept is one that I cannot maintain in my thoughts. It is too infinite in its possibilities of "what if" and brings me no joy. Only guilt. I believe that Scott loved me equally strong, and wouldn't want to me remember him with only guilt in my veins.
The sands of time truly run like quicksilver, and the science of irreversible processes - such as time - is irrevocable and forces me to shift the very foundation my life is built upon. This concept of "Not." Not having Scott a part of my life in the way I did before has become my new reality, and one that I cannot yet navigate.
The duality of triumph in this matter is the most pronounced bitter-sweet I know. It is that: as time passes, and this new reality becomes incorporated into my personal paradigm I will not hurt so badly, which is what I long for right now. BUT, as time passes and I don't hurt so badly I will move further away from the time I had with Scott. This, I do not long for. I feel as if I SHOULD hurt for this.
As time passes and dulls the ache of pain this situation will become part of my life, and all I have been able to do for the past 48 hours is fight the idea of it ever becoming that.
As I write this and mourn, I realize that it would be disrespecting Scott for me to make the last moments of his life the most important ones - especially since they do not define him as the wonderful individual that he was. It kills me writing in the past tense about him.
Instead of me becoming obsessed with the confusion and guilt and sadness of this loss I will use this blog as a forum for writing all the precious memories I have of Scott, and as a way to let him know that my love will not diminish. I have to honor him.
I deal with this minute-by-minute, and second-to-second. As my emotions ebb and flow I have to find a pace, and focus on writing about all the happiness he brought me, and all the joy I experienced with and because of him.
I have to be here for my family, and I have to function.
I have to eat, and I have to sleep.
As time passes it will be a more natural thing to focus on happy events, but, to my family, bear with me as I continue to process this, and try to find my way of learning how to find happiness when I think of Scott, and not sorrow.

Two Days Ago...

It is difficult to put anything about this situation into words because it seems to make it more real. I cannot convince myself he's actually gone, and I count the hours backwards from the time he was here. I don't feel like eating because eating is an affirmation of my life, and I feel so unworthy to be affirming my equivalent essence of what he left behind. I can't sleep for more than a couple hours at a time, and when I wake up this wave of sadness washes over me that is piercing and fills me with melancholy and longing.

I can't stop thinking that I could've helped him, or saved him somehow. I can't stop thinking this was avoidable. Over that, I can't stop thinking about the last time I saw him. Three weeks and a day before he left. He rode with me out to Sugarhouse to pick up an oven for my new home, and helped me deliver it - then bought my old oven from me and we delivered that to his home. If only I'd known it was the last time I'd see him in this life. I would've hugged him, and told him that I love him dearly. I would've made better conversation, and asked more questions. It's just that he's always been there, and I thought he always would be. When I left him and drove away I had no idea how badly I would later try to remember the conversation, and wonder if he was somehow saying goodbye to me.

Last night I went and cleaned out the room at the house where he lived. When I saw the humble circumstances in which he lived I couldn't believe I'd asked him to help me move stuff into my home. His room was filled with things of the past, things I thought he didn't like anymore...legos, action figures and other things we'd bought together when he was younger. He hardly had anything, but you would never know it by his attitude.

His personality was radiant, and he was genuinely kind. He was such a gentle soul, and I miss him so terribly. My heart overflows with love for you, Scott, and I will continue loving you forever.