The last page of Tame the Flame

Dedicated to: Our children Marty, Laurel, Chane, Brice, Brad, Lonnie and Jessie Lynn And Numerous other children I helped raise, including Scott, Kevin, Tara and Kelly Jerry, Becky, Laura and Terry Lorna, Michelle, Jason, Karen Helena Sissy, Tina and Christi, our first foster babies And So many other short-term foster children, whose names I cannot recall. The blessings are mine. Visit Dee LeRoye, at dakotarose746@goldenwest.net or at dakotarosegold@blogspot.com or website http://deeleroye.vpweb.com

A Glimpse of My latest novel "Tame the Flame"

Tears streamed down Serena’s face even as she wrapped the babe in a warmed blanket the butler brought to her. Wetson was still on his knees beside his wife, great sobs wracking his body. His wife was dead. CHAPTER ELEVEN The officer stood slowly, and to Serena’s surprise he quoted a paraphrase of King David’s words, “She cannot come to me, but I will go to her.” He took the baby from Serena and held him for only a few moments, then handed him back. “His name is Scott.” “Get the kids and the midwife out of here, Kelly. I’ll deal with the mess. Looks like a very badly botched abortion. Hopefully, no one will ask to inspect fetal tissue. On second thought, I’ll order an HFLA quarantine on the house. I’ll bury her myself in the back yard.” “The ground is frozen. Besides, HFLA burials are not allowed; the water supply, you know.” “I’ll figure out something. Just get going.” “What about your butler?” “He values his life. He will keep his mouth shut. If anyone makes trouble for me, he will be in the same situation.” Wetson went to the door of the bedroom and summoned the butler, “Pack Lorna’s clothing and favorite toys. Tell her she is going to visit friends for a few days. I need to clean up after a badly botched abortion. My wife is dead.” As soon as Shannon fastened a seat belt in the back seat around Lorna, she tripped the latch, slid across the seat, opened the car door and made a dash for the house.

Laurel's Memories of Grandma Helen

April 1, 2007 from Laurel Roghair Schriever’s Journal. We said “Good bye” to Grandma Helen this week—or as my Mom put it, not truly “Good bye”, but “See you later.” Grandma had been sick much of the last year, ever since she flew home from Arizona last April. She was in the hospital numerous times, lived in two different assisted living units, twice moved to Murdo, lasted a week back in Arizona, and then finally spent the last month living with my Dad and Mom. She began to have a lot of pain in the last week, and my Mom called me Thursday morning to say she thought this was the end. I decided to wait and go out on Friday because the kids and I had to play in a piano recital Thursday night. Thursday night Mom called and said they had taken Grandma to the Philip Hospital and that she was doing much better and not to worry about coming out. I asked Darin what he thought and he said, “No, let’s go anyway.” I’m so grateful that we did. We left Luke and Daniel with Lee and Darlene and took the older 3 with us and drove to Philip on Friday. We got there about 2 p.m. and Grandma knew us right away. She said, “Laurel, you came to see me.” She talked to Darin and the kids, too. She also said, “I’m so glad it’s over,” which confused me at the time, but I think somehow she already knew. We stayed at the hospital for awhile. (Mom was there too), and then Darin and the kids decided to go out to Dave and Jen’s. (They live just outside Philip.) I didn’t want to leave yet, so Darin decided he would just come back and get me later, another thing I’m so grateful for now. Grandma slept through much of the afternoon and talked restlessly in her sleep, but any time she woke up, she knew exactly what was going on and talked with us. Mom and I sat and talked about how much better she was doing and how she’d probably be going back to Dad and Mom’s before long. I was supposed to go out to Dave & Jen’s for supper and Dad and Mom were going to go to a play, so we were going to leave soon. Pastor Gary from Dad and Mom’s church stopped in around 4 p.m. and visited with Grandma. She didn’t say much, but smiled the whole time he read Psalm 23 to her. She’d been smiling all day, even in her sleep. Around 5 p.m. Grandma got more restless and seemed to have more pain. She would not drink water for me anymore and kept saying, “Help me. Help me.” She’d reach for my hand, and I’d talk to her and she’d rest again for awhile. We got the nurse to bring her a pain pill, but Mom had a hard time getting her to swallow it. By 6 p.m. the pain pill seemed to be helping, but Grandma was no longer responding to us, her blood pressure and oxygen levels started falling. The doctor tried giving her a couple different medications, but her body simply shut down. I sat and held one of her hands and Mom held the other while she breathed her last breaths of this earth’s air and stepped into glory. She died so peacefully—she simply went to sleep and stopped breathing. A few minutes before she died, Jen came to the hospital to get me and Susanna and Casey walked into the room. I hurried them out, but then had Susanna come back and say good-bye. I wasn’t sure if that was the best plan or not. Then my Mom took Susanna back out to Jen. While they were out, Grandma stopped breathing and I nearly panicked. The nurse had also stepped out and I did not want to be the only one there when she died. Then Mom and the nurse came back in and Grandma started breathing again. It wasn’t much longer though, and she was gone. It all went so fast that there wasn’t even time to call anyone else to come. I know that was especially hard for Clint. I’m just so grateful that Mom and I were still there. We could so easily have been gone, too. Earlier, when Grandma was really struggling and saying, “Help me,” my Mom prayed that Jesus would take the pain and told Grandma, “We love you, Mom, but you can go.” She was gone in less than an hour. Grandma died on March 23, fifteen years after we lost Grandpa Les. She was 88 years old, the youngest of our 4 Grandmas, and the first to go. What a privilege it’s been to have had both my Grandmas all these years, and for my children to have six Grandmas. Grandma Helen’s funeral was on Wednesday, March 28th at the Community Bible Church in Pierre. It was hard and yet beautiful, too. It was different than the grandpa’s funerals—not as sad. I think because there wasn’t a grieving spouse left behind, but instead more of a celebration of a life well lived. We all knew that Grandpa and Grandma were once again together. She had missed him so much. My Mom put a picture of them and the words “Together Forever” on the front of the funeral folder. Susanna, Joshua, and I played the piano prelude. I was nervous about it, but I prayed that God would give me extra grace to make it through that part. When my hands started shaking like they do when I’m nervous, I threw up a quick prayer, “God, I can’t do this if my hands are shaking,” and the shaking stopped instantly. I played 2 duets with Joshua and then Jessica’s Theme (Man From Snowy River), Chariots of Fire, Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us and “Untitled Hymn.” Not traditional funeral music, but music she would have loved. I was grateful that there were that many songs I could play with only two days to get them together. I don’t usually have that many ready. As it was I ended up playing “Untitled Hymn” three times through because it took so long for them to get started. The service was full of music, just the way Grandma would have loved. Mom, Anne, and Shawna sang “It Is Well” with Cristen accompanying them on the violin, then Cristen played a medley of hymns on her violin. Rocky Hayes sang “I Can Only Imagine,” and Chad and Joyce Caldwell sang “When It’s All Been Said and Done”, two incredibly beautiful songs. I didn’t cry until Chad and Joyce sang, but that one got to me. Mom read a reading she wrote about Grandma—about how she prayed for us and loved us all. It said so much. The pastor gave a very clear gospel message. I’m afraid there may have been nonbelievers there, so maybe seeds were sown. The funeral home put together a slide show of pictures set to Randy Travis music that they played before the funeral started and then again at the very end. I really appreciated that—it really added to the feeling of a celebration of Grandma’s life. The hardest part for me was leaving the cemetery—the feeling of “I can’t leave her here alone,” even though I knew in my head that it was only her body, my heart was crying otherwise. Darin was so good to me through the whole thing. What would I ever do without him? He was my shoulder to cry on, the hug when I needed his strength, the one who prayed me through my music. And he simply took over parenting our children and sometimes Jessie and Darian, too, so that I could be free to be with Grandma, help Mom, or to simply grieve. I have so many memories of my Grandma Helen—staying at her house and playing downstairs with her old Bible School materials, all of us staying overnight at her house at Thanksgiving, her taking me to get my ears pierced when I was 14, teaching Bible School together with her one year, all the gifts she bought me, her letting Tammie and me try to make the longest noodle in the world in her kitchen, she and Grandpa coming to all our concerts and to basketball games where they could not figure out if they should cheer for Tammie’s team or mine, going with Mom and baby Luke to see her in Arizona, Darin and I and the kids all packed into her little apartment in Pierre, her loaning us her van to take to Kentucky with Jeff and Lori, her cleaning my oven in Brookings when we were moving, she and Max driving down 2 different times to help celebrate Caleb’s birthday, making my wedding dress at her apartment in those sad months after my Grandpa died, her staying at the hospital with me when I had my broken leg and Mom needed to go home, her riding Casper (Lonnie’s mustang) when she was 86 years old, her giving me extra money after my support was all raised, just because she wanted me to have some “spending money” in India, she, Mom, Susanna and I going to take a 4 generation picture, her crying with me and driving me to Pierre to meet Darin after Bethany died, her coming to stay with us when Lonnie was born and again when Dad and Mom took their trip to Washington, D.C. and it snowstormed in May, she and Grandpa bringing me a doll from Holland, a belt from Alaska, her playing her drums with Grandpa, she and Susanna working crossword puzzles. I’ll always remember how she always reminded me that I had married such a good man and how when I told her goodbye and said, “I love you,” she always said, I know, you show me you do.” One final memory—the one I shared at the prayer service. When I was staying with her to help teach Bible School, I would run each morning. One morning she decided to run with me. We had run about a mile when she decided she’d better quit because she noticed she was wearing her bedroom slippers! I miss her dearly, though I’m glad she’s free of the pain, and is reunited with Grandpa and her baby boys. I am go greatly blessed to have had the privilege of being her granddaughter.