Tagged

I had to get a new tag for the broadcast on Saturday. It's kind of silly since we just got released last Sunday. I explored a few options with Sister Ellis, wife of the executive secretary at the MTC, and this seemed like the best one. We are not allowed to use the plastic clip above the tag on the left as the metal parts could reflect the bright lights and cause a glare. The pin on the back failed about 6 months in to our service at the MTC (3 1/2 years ago) - it would not stay closed and as a result my tag kept falling off. I finally super glued it shut and I haven't given it a second thought until now. So, even though I'm "retired", they ordered me a new magnetic tag. When I got my first tag I was just a bit disappointed that it did not say, "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-Saints", but I still loved it. When I looked at my new tag today, I was sad to see that tag said nothing but my name (I was happy that they spelled my name right). There were a few other sisters with tag issues, so they rushed them through and all the brand new tags were like mine... name only.

The tag on the left will always remind me of an incredible four years of learning and growth as we've been blessed to serve with the missionaries at the MTC. It's a bit dull and the lettering is not at white as it was the day I got it. But then, I'm not the same person either. I have learned so much about faith and trusting God as we move forward - not always knowing what the outcome will be. I have been humbled as I learn about the sacrifice of some of the missionaries and the struggles they have been through even at their tender ages. Serving at the MTC involves a lot of repetition. I now look at repetition not as something to be endured but as an opportunity to have something written deeply on my heart.

This new tag will only be worn once - tomorrow. But I think I will find a home for it, next to my old one where I can see it and reflect on what it means to me. A new beginning, a fresh start - lots of space for me to write my future - and to remind me of my desire to have a tag with "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-Saints" inscribed below my name.

The last verse of the congregational hymn we will sing mid conference tomorrow says it best:

"There's surely somewhere a lowly place in earth's harvest fields so wide 

Where I may labor though life's short day for Jesus the Crucified.

 So trusting my all to thy tender care and knowing thou lovest me, 

I'll do thy will with a heart sincere: I'll be what you want me to be."

PS Second Alto's (that's me) will be in the right quarter of the choir seats.

We will line up by height and then rearrange a bit to mix the colors, 

so I'm guessing I will be mid to lower part of that section. 

I'll be wearing turquoise!

Go Forth

It's probably no secret, especially to those closest to me, that I have struggled a bit with the whole "empty nest" thing... empty being the key word.  I have moments when I feel a bit lost and unsure of what my purpose is and what my direction my life should take. I have also felt the need to have faith and move forward. I have felt peace that as I continue doing what I'm doing, my path will unfold before me. God has a plan for me - a personal, individual plan - I just don't know what it is just yet. While I have felt this in my heart and it makes sense in my head, sometimes my heart forgets. Sometimes I doubt myself and wonder if I shouldn't be doing something different. Maybe I should get a job where I could make money. Maybe I should go back to school and get a graduate degree... I have lots of options. Sometimes I feel so unsettled and I wonder. 

And then this morning 180 voices sang in unison, 

"The errand of angels is given to women, and this is a gift that as sisters we claim, 

to do whatsoever is gentle and human, to cheer and to bless in humanity's name" 

add 180 soprano voices coming over the top " Go forth...go forth". 

These words penetrated my whole heart and soul. This is my purpose and direction. Care for my family and be available to serve and help. I  knew this before but it seemed so vague. This morning though, it was direct and clear. I had to regain my composure to be able to continue to sing. 

Stop fretting... keep moving... trust me. 

I can do that. 

End of a Era

I dropped Jennifer off at Heritage Halls today.

We have been making quick trips over to her dorm room to drop stuff off for two days now but today I came home without her. I felt like crying in the car but it seemed silly. I am so excited for her - a new phase of life.

I remember so clearly the day my dad dropped me off at Heritage Halls. I was in Young Hall. Excited and very nervous. We unloaded my stuff. Stood there awkwardly for a moment (as I subdued the urge to grab my suitcase and go home with him), we hugged and he was gone. I kind of wanted to cry - I could have too because none of my roommates were there - but I unpacked instead. My home was over 700 miles away and I knew no one. Soon enough, my roommates were there and it was like a big slumber party as we got to know each other over the next few days. Then the learning began in earnest - classroom learning but more importantly - real life learning.

Jennifer is not even close to the first one I have dropped off at Heritage Halls. Every time it has meant a change in our family. New dynamics, sometimes a change of bedrooms for those left at home. I have mourned a little at the end of my "active mothering phase" for each child, but today was different. I came home to a silent empty home. (Christian will move out in two days but he was at work.) I am now the mother of all adult children. My children no longer need me in the same way they used to. They do not need me to pack lunches, cook their dinners or remind them of things. No more piano recitals, meetings with school counselors or Scout/YW evenings. Do I celebrate or cry? Both I think.

Tonight, I miss my children; I miss my grandchildren and the house and my heart seem empty. I wonder and hope that I have taught them what they need to be successful in life - but I can still teach, mentor and love them, it's just different.

On Friday my life will go back to what it was like some thirty years ago. Just me and my best friend - only it will be different. Our life is so much fuller and richer - closely tied and bound together in an ever growing circle of amazing friends that we also call our children; our grandchildren are a whole new generation who are in need of "active grandmothering" even if it is done by long distance.

Tonight my feelings are tender, but tomorrow the sun will rise on a beautiful new day. New opportunities and decisions will present themselves, and I will try to be ready.

There are some distinct advantages to just being the two of us again - it will be like falling in love all over again.

Thanksgiving Came Early This Year

It came in a Mazda from California.

When Amy was expecting our first grandchild a friend told me a little of what I could expect. "Grandkids are like a part of you and when you are with them you feel so much joy and when they leave it's like a part of you is missing, a literal heart ache you miss them so much."

I feel the same way. Last night, after our early Thanksgiving feast, Ruby and I played balls in the basement and Grandpa soon joined us. Peter and I climbed up the stairs over and over and over again to his delight. I stuck out my tongue "ble blur ble blur ble blur" over and over and he would smile brightly and do the same back. He would gently tip his head onto my cheek giving me loves. Then we read books, Jenn read with Peter and I read with Ruby. Long after Peter moved on to other things Ruby and I were still going strong. Seven board books and then seven longer books. I could have read all night. As she snuggled in my lap and soaked up the stories, I soaked up the moment. The weight of her in my lap, the softness of her hair on my cheek, her sweet smell... and her comments, giggles and smiles as we read. Memorizing every detail so that after she left this morning, the memory could help fill the missing space in my heart. Soon it was time for bed. Amy read the last book to Ruby, Caps for sale! Ruby knew every word and detail. Amy read, shaking her finger, 

picture credit

"You monkeys, you...give me back my caps. But the monkeys only shook their fingers back at him and said..." Then Ruby would shake her finger and say, "Tsz, tsz, tsz.". 

These are such a loved children. I could see, and had seen all week, the difference that it makes to a child to have a mother who is willing to be there for them each and every day and to have a father who wants the same thing. Some of our (adult) conversation this week was about the challenges of raising children in the world we live in. Where moral values are skewed or absent and what's popular is often mistaken for what's most  important. In Kindermusik this week we talked about the importance of children having a secure base and how that helps them have the courage and security to explore the world and eventually become independent. 

I am so thankful for children and their spouses and so many others who are sacrificing and working hard to give their children a good foundation in life. Young adults who often live a less than glamorous life, in the trenches each day nurturing, providing and protecting this most precious resource for what ails the world, our children.

Children grow up so quickly. 

These moments are fleeting. 

The time and love given by their parents each day really do make all the difference.

Despite all the challenges in the world, 

I can see hope in our future.

Poisoned

I spent this weekend and part of last weekend getting our rental property ready for the next renters. Once everything had been moved out of the living room, Mark and I were not sure the carpet would be salvageable. Not only had it not been vacuumed with any regularity but I had doubts that spills had been even attempted to be cleaned up. Last week I did some research on the internet and found that red stains can often be removed by using a mixture of half hot water, half ammonia sprayed into the stain. The spot is then covered with a thick towel and a hot steam iron applied over the towel. The towel wicks up the red dye. A little scrubbing with the hot towel also helps. It works quite well, but requires repetition and patience. Five hours doing this and other spot cleaning as well as overall cleaning on the living room alone gave us hope that the carpet would come clean. This past weekend I personally spent eight hours on the carpets throughout the house, and a few more hours cleaning windows, walls, doors, baseboards. Maybe we should have just replaced the carpet... but it is only a few years old. I was very grateful for the two women that we hired to clean the kitchen and bathrooms as well as Jennifer and Mark who also put in many hours of work.

As I cleaned I had a lot of time in my head. I forgot my ear buds so I had no access to music. I found that as I cleaned I became more frustrated and angry with our renters. How could adults live in such squalor? Slobs! How could you function day to day in this mess? Irresponsible! What kind of people trash a house like this? Inconsiderate! Where do they go now - to trash another place? Users! I went from room to room gathering evidence as to the despicable nature of these people. I was sure they sublet the house (not allowed). Obviously they had a pet hamster or guinea pig or whatever (despite not pets being allowed). They were dishonest. Although there was no smell inside of cigarette smoke inside the house, washing the handles around the closet doors removed a layer of grime that made it necessary to wash the whole door and made me wonder. Ink (mostly) comes out with hairspray - rinsing with a vinegar and water mixture. Large spots of matted down carpet come clean with Oxiclean, a little dish soap and hot water saturated into the spot and gently (or not so gently) teased out with a soft scrub brush - allow to sit for 5 minutes while you go to another spot and then come back and suck it out with the carpet cleaner, rinse with vinegar and water and rinse and rinse again. Gum... well sometimes Oxiclean mixture, other times scissors, depends on how long is has been there.

By then end of the day the house looked sparkling clean and even smelled good. But I was upset and frustrated. Little things made me mad or brought me to tears. On the way home we began to talk about how much, if any of the deposit will be returned and I hit the wall. I felt sick inside. I had poisoned my own heart with all of my negative thoughts. "Enough with the negative, someone tell me something wonderful about some one!" the plea tumbled from my lips and my heart ached for the antidote. I needed to see the good in others, to have empathy or sympathy or love. I needed to feel kind, thankful, warm feelings about people. The three of us were silent for a few minutes... my poison had spread and infected the others. We finally talked about my sweet grandchildren for a few minutes, an instant fix when I need to feel some joy. It was a start but my heart was still hard and hurting. We couldn't come up with anything else (pretty pathetic state we were in), so we turned to music and I tried to focus my thoughts on the evidence all around me that life is good and people are good, kind and considerate and doing the best they can.

The next morning I was still amazed at how my heart has not fully healed and how thoughts, when dwelt upon and left unchecked, can change the way we view others, and life in general. How quickly I could loose my perspective and how much effort it was taking to get it back.

As we were driving home we passed through some road construction that caused all the traffic to be merged into one lane. Our car has one headlight that has a short and goes off and on while we drive. No one's been able to fix it for us. There were a few places where we would go back to two lanes with just enough time for the faster traffic to pass slower traffic before being merged into one lane again. At one of these passing places the car in front of us began to go very slowly. We passed him and he jumped behind us. For the next stretch of one lane highway he proceeded to flash his brights at us repeatedly (as I'm sure he assumed we had done to him).

The driver misjudged us. We laughed at the whole situation and I wonder how I had misjudged our renter(s). Maybe they truly don't know any better. Maybe they grew up being used and not taught to care. Maybe they had issues with their wiring that they haven't been able to resolve. I doubt I would rent to them again and they need to be responsible for the mess and damage, but who am I to condemn them as individuals? Especially when I have my own flaws I'm continually working on... like learning to watch my thoughts and learning not to judge others. A little bit of compassion began to work its way back in to my heart.

Midlife...

crisis contemplations. 

Fall is here in full swing. This past week we exchanged our rainy cold weather for a sunny reprieve. The leaves are dazzling and the sky is so blue. The sun is warm and inviting. But I know that Winter is just around the corner. Sometimes it's hard not to dread winter. I don't hate it but it's probably my least favorite of seasons. Early winter is fine, there is still hope of a few days of reprieve here and there. The first snowfall is still magical to this California girl. But after 12 winters in Utah I know that before long the cold will set in, the streets will be icy and the beautiful white snow will become dirty and hard. So today I have a choice. Will I enjoy every moment that is mine today? Will I sit in the sun and soak up its warmth. Will I allow my dread of winter's frozen months to rob me of joy today?
Winter will come as it always does, but some winters are late, some are mild and sometimes we even get a week or two of warm (for winter) weather causing the snow to recede and my heavy coat to be abandoned in the closet. 

And many winters come early, freeze hard and overstay their welcome. 

This year I will be 48. If I live to be 96 which most people don't, then my life is half over. It's fact. I cannot change where I am right now and I don't know what's in my future. Even though I try to take care of myself, the second half (or third or month or whatever) is an unsure thing - no guarantees. Except that at some point I will die. I will leave this life. Death and taxes... you know. 

This past Saturday my friend and her husband were the first to come upon three teenage girls who had been hit by a train. Two were killed, one is in critical condition. Somehow I don't think that they realized at age 7 or 8 that their life was half over. It was heart rending just reading about it, but I was touched by the reminder that each day is a gift. My thoughts and feelings of late seem so trivial in comparison to what their families are go through.

As I think about getting old I don't look forward to possible health problems that come to most with aging. I'm finally at the point were I need to use glasses to read smaller print and frankly I don't like it. 

Events happen that change or end lives in an instant. With some people their bodies continue on after their minds and ability to function have passed. While we should do all we can to prevent disease and stay healthy, ultimately we are not in control of so very much.

So today I need to make a choice. Do I embrace the gift of this day doing what I can to ensure that tomorrow I will be strong and able to function. I will prepare for tomorrow and next month and decades from now but try not to let dread and worry dampen this moment. This moment is a beautiful one - not perfect... the air is cooler than I'd like, my back and neck are sore this morning, I could use a nap too ... but this moment is all I have. It's what my life is made of. Single moments connected together, always moving forward unretrievable. 

Knowing that my experiences in this life are just part of a bigger whole comforts me and helps me to remember that I have many bright days a head... one way or another.

* pictures taken by Jennifer in American Fork Canyon

Breaking Through

Today as I left the chiropractor I felt emotional.

As I drove out of the parking lot I realized that I had felt the same way when I left last week too. 

This was my third appointment. 

Upon arriving home after my first appointment I cried.

As I was talking to Mark, I realized that Dr. Brady was the first
in a long list of doctors I've seen since my bike crash that gave me hope.
Hope that I would feel "way, way, way better" than I had been feeling

... and I believed him.

My second appointment was a week ago.

Saturday morning when I woke up I had no pain in my neck

and not because I was moving carefully... 

I could move my head in any direction I wanted, even quickly without pain. 

Mornings are usually my worst time of the day.

At my first appointment I was told not to massage, stretch or pop my neck AT ALL.

AT ALL

This is a big deal. Popping and stretching my neck and back have provided
me with relief, not just since the accident but since I was in high school. 

Give me exercises or stretches or something

but NO popping or stretching... that was HARD.

But I've been good, very good. 

Although today I also discovered I had been cheating a little bit.

I had kind of suspected it, but today it was affirmed.

No more.

My tender feelings were more than a desire
or hope to be completely well again, but I felt baffled.

He takes my head in one hand and with the other he feels along the side of my neck and shoulder until he finds a sore spot. I never tell him where they are, maybe he can tell because I wince a little when he presses there, but it seems more like he knows where to look and can feel it there. He massages it a little while he moves my head around. Then he pops my neck (or back) and sweet relief follows. Then it's time for biopuncture. Small needles with vitamins and herbs in my neck and back. It's not painful but does involve a small prick, sometimes a little sting and in the afternoon my neck and shoulder feel a little achy and sore. 

When he first comes in the room I have already had a somewhat painful massage and I'm laying on a heating pad. He greets me while looking at my chart, sits down where I can easily see him, closes my chart and says, "talk to me". I tell him about my new freedom of movement, lack of pain in my neck, my new aches and pains, what seems to bring them on and how I deal with them (no popping involved). As he begins to work I tell him what I've done during the week that may help or hurt my progress. He asks questions and the conversation continues while he works on me. At times when I have a hard time talking through the pain he reminds me to breathe and relax. It seems he can often tell how well I've followed his instructions by my progress and how my body responds. 

Today I told him about a way I kind of stretch my middle back... which often brings a popping sound...(but not in my neck). He was not happy and explained more clearly why it's important not to stretching or pop my WHOLE back. I would have to give this up too. Then he said, "Sounds like you have control issues" It took me by surprise and I immediately began to dispute his statement, but stopped. "Maybe I do have control issues" I replied. He laughed a little and said, "I think we all do". 

There was something about that insight and honesty; raw real honesty from someone who is concerned about my long term benefit, that is both painful and freeing. Someone who desires my best outcome. And when I also desire it enough to be willing to take a sometimes painful look at myself and be willing to make some hard changes, I have good reason to hope... hope for a brighter future. One with less pain and more freedom. 

That's a big deal.

Today

Today it's raining AGAIN

And it's cold STILL

My tomato plants are sitting by the window in the family room

wishing for a warm sunny day 

and room to spread their roots beyond the confines of their plastic pots.

Me too - at least about the sunny warm day. 

I love warm sunny days.

My morning was filled with music and giggles and dancing...

hugs and "tank yous" from little ones I've had the privilege 

of watching grow over the last year or so.

My first year of Kindermusik is over. 

How I love it when my home is filled with little people.

and now I sit in my quiet home 

I love it when my house it quiet.

by myself

 left to ponder life's complexities...

Why is the grass longer under the trampoline than elsewhere?

Do I have any drywall mud that's still usable?

Should I paint when Mark and I go to St. George tomorrow

 or just take a good book?

I really ought to do laundry and iron...

Next week is Jenn's last week of school

I love summer time

then EFY, then to Nauvoo with Mark, then Trek, 

then the wedding.

My life seems to be measured more by events than days or weeks.

The wedding - lots of family coming.

I love it when my house if full of the people I love.

What to fix for dinner for everyone? 

Where will they all sleep?

What can I get done around here before they come?

Christian's non farewell farewell on the 26th.

He needs some good shoes for his mission... 

and shirts, ties and a sleeping bag.

I love that he is so excited to serve a mission.

Into the MTC on July 6th.

Surely it will be warm by then.

Probably HOT

but then again, I thought it would be warm by now...

But right now it's snowing in the mountians!

We'll probably miss Spring completely.

Straight from the heater to the AC

and flooding

and mudslides...

At least in the summer

at least we can open the house at night.

Utah has lovely summer evenings...

I love Utah Summers

I need to get an outfit for the wedding...

I wonder if that sweater I liked will go on sale

 or if I should get it before it sells out...

hmmmmmmmm

I love my life.

Even when it's cold and rainy.

Crowning Day

As I write the lower left quadrant of my mouth is numb. I may or may not be drooling. This afternoon I got two permanent crowns - after two weeks of an aching jaw with my temporaries... 

Lets hope I will not be needing Alleve very soon. 

Today I also finished up my first semester of Kindermusik.

I learned so much.

I must admit that I was a little surprised at how attached I got to the children in my classes.

Little ones grow and change so much in a few short months. 

At first they were a little wary of me and now they smile big as they sit in my lap.

They have learned that when a song is over we put the instruments or scarves away, 

sometimes they begin singing the clean up song before I do.

Even if they are enjoying what we are doing they trust that whatever is coming next will be just as fun. They are learning that everyone pausing together can be just as much fun and playing together.

They are learning to take turns.

They have so much enthusiasm and energy

and delight over simple things

like a box of kleenex.

Who knew.

I'm looking forward to next semester beginning

after spending some time playing with my Ruby girl 

and getting to meeting her little brother... when he arrives.

If I could have Ruby, Olivia and Peter in my classes that would be ideal

but I can't complain

I have a really good life.

Change...

Tuesday looked like this...

Wednesday morning looked like this...

 By Wednesday afternoon it looked like this:



Tomorrow it's supposed to get up to 70...
They say there's nothing as constant as change.

We see it in the weather and seasons... babies being born and others leaving this life.

Tomorrow we celebrate the life of Kent Messenger.

We sorrow at his passing but joy in the life he lead and find comfort in our faith that we will see him again and that he and Jane Ann will be reunited again. Until then we will do our best to love and support Jane Ann as she faces the challenge of adjusting to the changes that have taken place in her life these past months and especially this past week.

This Sunday I am speaking again at the MTC about charity - the second time in about 6 weeks on the same topic. One of the things I have been pondering about is learning to see others as Heavenly Father sees them, which I think is a major part of charity.
I don't think He keeps a running list of all our faults and weaknesses so that when we mess up he can throw them in our faces.

I know that he sees our faults, but I think he focuses more on our hearts.
He sees who we truly desire to become and knows that are trying to do better
- even though we mess up and loose focus at times.
In my mind, true charity is to try to see the good in others AND
just as importantly to treat them as they have the potential to become.

I think sometimes we don't allow ourselves to see the changes in others because we see them as they were - through a lens of their faults and weaknesses. I think we also make it hard for people to change because we treat them as if they were a sum of their faults and weaknesses instead of treating them as they can become. For some reason we can't forgive and allow them to change, and even when they do change (or try to change) we miss it because we are looking through an out of focus lens.

So here is my public commitment to try a little harder to find the good in others and see others more clearly and then treat them as the children of God they really are.

(Disclaimer: I am on no way advocating for anyone to continue in a dangerous relationship, 
forgiveness is needed but so is good judgment and common sense)

What Matters Most

I was thinking the other day about Amy and Celisa.

Both are full time stay at home moms. To some it may not sound like much but in reality it's one of the hardest and most important jobs ever. It's hard in many ways but two things come to mind

#1 It's not a 40 or even 50 hour work week. You are actively involved or on call 24/7 for 18 years and then some. #2 The pay for what you do today comes in little hugs and smiles but the real pay day will probably not come for years. You deal with accidents of all kinds, messes, fits, crying, disrupted schedules, quick showers and meltdowns. You understand a different language and translate for others and help your little ones learn to do things that would be so much easier (and done much better) if you were to do it yourself. But you see into their future and want what's best for them so you help them pick up their toys and clothes, allow them to walk around the house in things that may not match, spend endless time admiring their creations and reading the same favorite books over and over and over and over till you could read them in your sleep, and sometimes you do.

It's important because you are creating habits and expectations and feelings of love and security that will be with and influence these precious children for a life time and beyond. These children will be the leaders of tomorrow and you are making a difference today, each day, each moment. Sometimes amid the tears, the dishes and dirty laundry (dirty diapers too) the messes and melt downs it's easy to loose that perspective... and little ones don't often say thank you when you insist they obey or wear shoes or take a bath... (sometimes they say your mean or don't like you)
so I'll say it

THANK YOU 

Moms everywhere, and especially Amy and Celisa we love you and appreciate what you are doing. Someday they will grow up and leave, just like you are raising them to do. 

They are not this age forever.
But what you do each day matters a lot
and some day they will thank you too.

PS Thanks mom!

How do you do it?

A few months ago Kent Messenger was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. 

Kent and Jane Ann Messenger were living in our neighborhood when we moved here. 

Their youngest two sons have been in school with Aaron and Robbie.

We tried to take piano lessons from Jane Ann but her waiting list was too long.

Their youngest son, David, served his mission during the exact same time as Robbie. 

{see this post}

About two years ago Kent lost his job and they subsequently lost their home.

They were able to rent a house one street over, keeping them nearby.

Kent finally found a really great job and things were looking up when he was diagnosed.

He was able to work long enough to get insurance coverage.

After a round of radiation and chemo they waited for six weeks.

We got his email last week written by Jane Ann

(it went to the whole ward):

"We got the results back from Kent's CT scan yesterday.  It is not good.  The cancer has spread to his liver and spleen.  No wonder he is such a sick guy.  He never ceases to amaze me with his good attitude.  He is only worried about me.  The Hospice nurse thought it would be around 4 weeks.  I thought we would have longer than that, but we will take all the time we have.

Oh my we never know what is ahead of us.  Don't let one day go by without telling those you love that they are so special to you.  Forgive faster and judge slower.  That is my advice for you. Again, thank you for all your love and prayers.  We need them more now than ever before.

Thanks again for all your kind words and love.  

Your love and prayers have seen us through a lot these past few months.  

We love you."

We visited with Jane Ann tonight. 

We cried together and talked about the amazing life Kent has lived. 

We visited with Kent too. He was thin and pale, and not feeling very good but visited with us for a few minutes. He knew us and it was good to visit with him.

We left with hugs and tears.

Assurances that help and support is nearby,

I know our offer was among many.

But how do you do it?

How do you watch your beloved spouse leave this life?

Jane Ann will be 60 soon.

As she said, that's too young to be a widow...

I think the only thing that makes it doable/bearable 

is knowing that God has a plan for all of His children 

and that this separation is only temporary...

Tonight I am so very thankful for that.

Miles for Melanie

This is Jenn and me a week ago.

We took part in a 5k "Miles for Melanie"

Melanie Kau is the mother of a classmate of Jennifer's.

I don't really know her well but I've watched her daughter Kalani grow up as I've helped in Jenn's classrooms and attended school events. 

Melanie Kau has cancer.

She was one of the fittest people I know. Running, playing tennis... last spring/summer they discovered she had cancer in her lungs, and her brain and bones. I don't know all of the details but I do know that if it can happen to her it could happen to any of us. I'm not much of a runner but it seemed a small thing to do to show our love and support and help out a little bit with the expenses. 

Melanie, you don't know me but I'm praying/pulling for you!

more about Melanie 

and more pictures from the run

here

Deciding to do Kindermusik

Written a month ago

I remember when I was expecting baby #2. I knew the amazing amount of love I felt for Aaron and wondered if I could ever love another child as much as I loved him. I couldn't imagine it was possible and felt a little guilty. But when Amy was born my ability to love increased beyond what I had ever felt before. She was her own little person and I loved both of my children incredibly.

I remember being pregnant with Jennifer. It had been a very difficult pregnancy and as I sat in the rocking chair feeling her kick my hand, I knew she would be my last baby. I shed tears more than once at the realization that the time was quickly approaching that I would never feel a baby moving inside me again.

I find that I am apprehensive again as the next few weeks will bring about some major changes in my life. 

BUT, realizing that I worried about past changes

and also realizing I have loved my life since those changes took place

gives me faith and hope that the transitions that are coming will also bring great joy.

This fall we will have just one child at home. 

When did I get this old? 

Isn't it just old people that have all their children grown and gone? 

Now that I am done with school and my children are growing up and moving out what will I do? Cooking, cleaning, yard work - stuff like that of course - but I feel like I want more,
maybe need more. 

With both granddaughters living in different states I miss them. 

A lot. 

I feel like I have a lot of love to give,
some mothering and nurturing still to give,
I miss the sounds of little giggles and squeals of delight in my home...

but in reality, I only want it part time.

What Dads have taught me

My dad and niece Erika
(circa 2002ish)

One spoke out, “My dad is bigger than your dad,” to which another replied, “Well, my dad is smarter than your dad.” The third boy countered, “My dad is a doctor.” Then, turning to one boy, he taunted in derision, “And your dad is only a teacher.” There is one teacher whose life overshadows all others. When the boy heard the taunts: “My dad is bigger than yours,” “My dad is smarter than yours,” “My dad is a doctor,” well could he have replied, “Your dad may be bigger than mine; your dad may be smarter than mine; your dad may be a pilot, an engineer, or a doctor; but my dad is a teacher.” May each of us ever merit such a sincere and worthy compliment!

Thomas S. Monson

I am blessed to be surrounded by wonderful dads who are also teachers. My own dad taught me joy in service, love of the Lord, and tenderheartedness. The father of my children has taught me and them much about integrity, humility and priorities.

My son and son in law have taught me to take time time to have fun and enjoy the little moments of life as I have watched them love their little girls.

I thank my Heavenly Father or all these earthly fathers that help me to know Him better.

the beginning, the end and what lies in between

THE BEGINNING
New babies being born right and left and so many coming in the next few weeks.

Two amazing women safely into the second trimester and beyond after two heartbreaking miscarriages.

A friends daughter is expecting twins... only the babies share a sac and a placenta... dangerous for the babies. They told her not to tell people just in case she miscarries...
- won't she need our love and support even more if she loses one or both?

THE END
A few months ago a student that Mark knows lost his wife to cancer. She left behind three small children. While I did not know her I read three years worth of posts on her blog and cried.

Last week a dear friend lost her battle with cancer.
Her battle began about two and a half years ago.
After surgery the doctor told her family to plan her funeral, the odds were against her.
While recovering from surgery, she debated whether she should do chemo or not. Her daughter had just gone through a messy divorce and she was currently watching her grandchildren while her daughter finished an advanced degree that would allow her to get a good job.
She plead with God to preserve her life long enough that her daughter could get on her feet.
She did chemo and radiation and was cancer free for a year.
Her daughter got a good job and things were going well when her cancer returned.
One afternoon she mused aloud that maybe she should have asked God for more time during her initial plea.
Treatment was not an option any more.

Earlier that same week a couple we are friends with lost their son. Caught in the depths of depression he felt he could not go on and took his life. He was buried exactly one year after his older sister took her own life.

WHAT LIES IN BETWEEN
One persons beginning and another persons end fills in the in between for me; at times taking up a volume of space in between laundry and car repairs and sporting events. But each day the sun rises, whether behind clouds or in a clear blue sky, it rises. There is food to prepare and beds to be made. Individuals within my reach that need a hug or a listening ear. Things to celebrate as well as mourn. And each evening when the sun goes down, I crawl between the sheets relieved to be able to rest, knowing I will have another chance tomorrow to finish the list that remains from today. Often when my body is occupied with the routine of my day, my mind ponders this experience that is life. Maybe I should put smiling and laughing on my list. When life seems perplexing I find great comfort in knowing that this life is just a part of a greater whole. We existed before we came here and will continue after we die. It's comforting to know that there is a God that knows and loves us. I'm glad that he has a plan for all of us. It makes the in between not just bearable but joyful and purposeful.

Love this

My day

Despite the flowers beginning to bloom just past my front porch
my day began a little rough.
My neck was tight and I didn't sleep well
In aerobics I had two left feet - but at least I didn't fall...

I did get the Volvo emptied of it's contents at DI
but before I could get this "way darker than the picture on the internet"
and "rotten egg smelling" rug returned...

The power steering pump went out once again
and we are sans Volvo for the beginning of the second week.
It's place in the garage filled only with puddles of power steering fluid.

We did FINALLY get the BMW registration done today...
that has taken months.
With Robbie's help we got the motorcycle inspected, licensed and insured.
I almost forgot how much growing/grown boys/men eat.

But in the end we had enough food.

Nico was over and to prepare him for his upcoming mission in Brazil
Rob gave us all a Portuguese lesson.

Meanwhile - out our window
the popcorn is popping on the apricot tree

A lone daffodil is smiling brightly

And these lovely little flowers...
sit just past my front porch
waiting for me.

I should have known...

I have a tendency to get lost in places I am unfamiliar with
(that's why I usually study a map before I visit a new place).
I once got lost on the circular road that goes around the Paradise Valley Mall in Phoenix .
A lot of visual stimulation can give me a headache.

While the IKEA in Draper has been there for probably 2 years I had yet to visit it.
That was until yesterday.

I was going to Salt Lake anyway and I've had a list of things I need to get at IKEA so I figured I'd run in on my way home and pick them up.
(Why are you laughing at me?)

I'd been to IKEA in Sacramento with Amy last summer.
We strolled through the store, enjoyed the displays and ideas...
all in all an enjoyable afternoon.

I was prepared.
I knew what I wanted.
I got online, wrote down the aisle and bin numbers of the things I needed - of course there were a few small things that didn't include isle and bin numbers...

I was limited on time so I walked in the front door and straight to the information lady. I showed her my list and she smiled, complimented me on my necklace, gave me a map and instructions.
(The last part made me a little nervous.)

I was relieved that I didn't need to walk through the whole showroom to procure my items.
I squared my shoulders, when through the double doors as instructed and stood there - hmmmm this looks like the showroom only on a little smaller scale...
cool dishes... I wonder if they have that print in red...
placemats... maybe they have something cool I could use for a runner like Kirsten did...

NO NO NO!!!!
FOCUS!!

Find a cart... yes... good... there they are...

Now where was that short cut she told me about...
Where is my map...
Where am I on the map?

Well, needless to say, I did make it out of the store...
eventually
(bless the person who suggested they paint arrows on the floor otherwise I may still be there... good thing they sell food too)

I even found what I needed... eventually
and a few things that were not on my list but that were also needed,
wanted, useful... whatever!

One more thing I forgot about.
How to get my purchases into the car...

Luckily a nice man took pity on me and helped me load my car.
(It seems it's easier to find someone to help you
in Home Depot than at Ikea.)

I am happy with my purchases.
I'll post pictures as soon as I find my camera
and take a nap...

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation

Our "Deluxe Villa" in La Mision, Baja California, Mexico

We were through the green door in the right with another family.
Bunk "beds", no heat, bathroom in the little brown house on the far left.
It was lovely!

by Karen Zimbelman
Part 1

About 8 years ago Mark and the three oldest kids left on Christmas morning to travel to Haiti with A Child's Hope Foundation to help build this orphanage:
Robbie built this swing set while there for his eagle project.
I think it's safe to say it was a life changing experience.
Amy, and then Mark and Robbie got to go a second time to Haiti and
Amy has volunteered at an orphanage in Romania two different times,
the first time she met Jordan
who was doing an internship in a nearby city,
the second time they went as facilitators after they were married.

When it came time for Christian to do his eagle project nothing else seemed to really capture his heart until it was suggested that we go with ACHF and build a swing set at an orphanage.
Since they are not making trips to Haiti we joined them on a trip to Mexico.

We stayed at a campground hosted by the Door of Faith Orphanage
The above picture is looking past our kitchen facility on the right towards the orphanage. On the left are pens where they keep goats, sheep, chickens, ducks and rabbits.

We arrived Sunday afternoon and Jenn and I (along with others) spent Monday sorting and organizing all the donations. Mark and Christian went shopping for the poles for the swing set.

In the afternoon Jenn and I went to play with the Children at DOFO
We started small, swinging Raul and Angelina (in the pink shirt)
Angelina giggled and told us "mucho, mucho!" over and over.

As the group and size of the children grew we decided
ring-around-the-rosie was a better way to go

this is me breaking the "disco" (cd) I was holding for Angelina in the pocket of my sweat jacket

Those boys loved Jenn and soon the game evolved into a game of keep away -starring Jenn's hat. She was a good sport.

Raul and I were fine on our own.
- when Raul told me his name I repeated it back to him
but he corrected me until I rrrrrrrolled my rrrrrrr sufficiently.
When we asked him how old he was he held out all the fingers in one hand plus his thumb on the other. We asked "seis?" He looked unsure and quickly counted the extended appendages, "uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis". He looked up with a big smile and nodded, "SEIS!"
He melted my heart!

That evening we had fabulous carne asada tacos at a nearby taco stand.
Mmmmmmmm they were good.

More tomorrow.