Note to Self

Next time I get all bent out of shape that nobody remembers I'm struggling, I can just think about this morning when I talked to my own mom and forgot to ask how she was doing.  Today is my brother Stan's 54th birthday.  My mom has dealt with 39 of them since he's been gone.  I wonder if she has ever said,  "One year closer to seeing him again"?

I'm his own sister and I forget.  I should probably cut people some slack.  I can't even post a photo of him here because I only have a couple and I don't know where they are.  I wish I could remember more about him--anything really.  I don't have any memories of him.  None.  I hope Mikey remembers Ian, heck, even Lucy--I don't remember much of being 10 or 13.  I think Lu'll do pretty well.

I wonder what birthdays mean on the other side of the veil.  Probably nothing.  They are probably like the day we leave home to go to college or a mission or whatever.  We remember the general time, but the actual date, not so much.  Maybe they celebrate homecoming dates on the other side.  Maybe they sing welcome home, just like in the Michael W. Smith song that I love.

I should be writing about the lovely Christmas we had--we did, but instead I want to record the dream I woke up to this morning.  We were in Morgan at the grocery store and we had 2 cars.  I threw one set of keys to Ian and told him to drive the truck home (I guess just to my parents).  Well, he was thrilled, jumped in and TORE out of the parking lot with me waving my arms and screaming--as I realized that we never got a chance to teach him to drive.  It was great.  I've been thinking for days about the rituals we won't get to share with him like graduations and mission and wedding and babies.  Maybe my subconscious just couldn't stand it and had to  create a ritual for me.

I miss my son today.  I can picture my mom missing hers--she'd probably have great-grandchildren by now.  That's a lot of rituals.

Together for Christmas

Happy Christmas to all,
And to all a good night.

My niece Abi and by nephew Kenyon decided to wear their Ian's Team T-shirts tonight.  Lucy and Mike put theirs on too.  They included him in the Imaginiff board game (which I highly recommend), and they are watching a batman movie as I go to bed.  They made him  be here as much as they could.

It's a good thing.

Maybe Tomorrow will be Better

Not a good day today.

I'm just not okay enough to be happy for others whose families are all together and they are so excited to see each other and have a warm, happy holiday.  Does that make me a rotten person?  Yeah,  I think it does.  I shouldn't be surprised to be under water,  that's how I felt for Thanksgiving too.  I looked at some things at the mall today that reminded me of Ian.  Lucy asked why I torture myself.  Boy, did she get an earful.  All I have of Ian right now are the things that remind me of him.

This is what I want for Christmas--Ian, here in my arms!

Book Review

We have over 40 Christmas books now.  I buy at least one new one ever year--usually at a used book store for between fifty cents and 3 or 4 dollars.  In my humble opinion, this is the  best Christmas book there is.  It beats A Christmas Carol and The Christmas Box and Gift of the Magi and all the others. 

It's a simple children's book with about 15 pages and it goes through all the wonderful things about Christmas--everything everybody likes,  but at the bottom of each page, it says,  "but that's not the best thing about Christmas."  Of course the last few pages tell the Christmas story about Christ's birth, with details of shepherds and angels.  The last page says,  "Yes, I like everything about Christmas.  But I think the BEST thing is...Jesus came for ME!

Christmas is personal.  It's individual.  It's on the inside.  No matter how the world distorts it,  He came for me.

A Bunch of Whooey





"That's a bunch of whooey" is what I wanted to say in Sunday school today. 
I didn't.
Progress. 
Although a little correction would have been a good thing.  We we discussing Revelation.  I didn't do the reading this week, so I was not prepared to comment.  But, I did, and the teacher took what I said and ran with it--in the wrong direction.  I'll explain.

We were talking about the millennium and  how Satan won't have power then.  That was quite a discussion in and of itself.  Then she asked what we can do to fight Satan now.  She didn't say fight--I don't remember the exact question.  I answered that one way for me to keep Satan at bay was to not focus on myself.  That if I try to focus on others that I can do better at keeping him in check.  Let me say here that I was thinking about pride, not necessarily service.  The teacher then went on to say how wonderful service is--in that voice people get when then tout, and that when we serve others our problems go away or become smaller.

I've been home for 3 hours now.  I've showered, had lunch, and dealt with an ant infestation in my pantry.  I'm still thinking about what she said.  I think that's a bunch of whooey.  The problem I have to carry on my back now for the rest of my life isn't going away.  Taking someone a dinner won't ever ease  the pain  I feel when  I hear someone other than my son is blessing the sacrament.  The loneliness won't be gone just because I drive a widow to church every week.  Keith doesn't balance out the ledger of grief time with the hours he spends ministering hoping he can come out ahead.

God didn't say he would make our problems go away.  He said he would make them easier to bear--if we are obedient and do what  He asks.  That's a  big if.  I also believe that one of the ways he makes burdens lighter is by making us stronger.  If I have to carry a 25 pound weight around every day for an extended period of time, I get used to it and it becomes more manageable.  The same is true with trials.  If we don't fall down under the weight and quit, we get stronger. 

Sharp pains can become dull aches.  Some times our trials are open gushing wounds.  Even if we have spiritual stitches, they still hurt.  That doesn't go away.  Whether we end up with a scar or a callous takes a lot more than just time and serving others.  Sometimes the serving others part is just a distraction to keep us from ripping off the scab and starting the process all over again.

Like I said, I was actually thinking about pride when  I made the comment.  I think Satan does his best work when we think we are in control and doing fabulously--when we only see our own perspective and don't consider how our actions could affect others.  But the direction it went left me cold.  I've still got a lot of sensitive spots that aren't healed.  I spent last night bawling after the ward Christmas party where this same teacher came running up to me to tell me her son had just gotten in to town to spend Christmas with her.  Yeah, burdens don't go away, they just become invisible to other people.  It's good to know I still have divine help carrying it.

"Trending Today"

Let me just start by saying I already know I watch too much TV.  I concede that.   This morning watching the "news" I came to the conclusion that TV can't get any dumber.  They have these new segments about what's "trending."  Since when is the word trend a verb?  When did it become a good thing to know and follow the trends?  Aren't trends like fads?  Aren't they the product of peer pressure?  Do we really need "journalists" to telling us what is popular on twitter and facebook and what celebrities are typing into their phones.  I know it's nothing new today, but it just seems to have totally gotten out of control.  Wouldn't it be great if news was actually news and if you could watch a whole newscast without shaking your head or heaving a sigh of disgust? 

Here's the straw that broke the camel's back:  "Christmas gift registries--the new trend."  The polls reveal that people prefer to get the gifts they ask for instead of surprises.  Wow.  They interviewed people on the street saying how much easier it was to just click on a premade list--a list made by the recipient.  They could even just click on stuff and order right from the list.

PATHETIC

I found out a couple of years ago that my kids were the only ones in their peer groups that actually picked out  presents for each other or their parents.  All their friends just make lists and their parents fulfill it.  There is no giving to each other.  There's no learning how good it feels to be the giver.  There's no saving your own money and paying for something to give to anyone.

AGAIN,   PATHETIC

I don't care about trends.  Anyone who knows me is not surprised by that.  I do, however, care that Christmas is a victim of them.  I do care that my kids don't know how things used to be. 

A Quote of a Quote

 

We had a great opportunity this weekend.  We had one of Jesus' own apostles here in town and we got to listen to him talk.  His name is Elder David A. Bednar.  I have to say, it was pretty great and not in the way one might think.  He reminded us that we have somebody with us all the time who can act for God on our behalf--our stake president, and I think from the amount of people there, and the 2 extra buildings full of overflow, it was an unexpected message.  Normally, stake conference is vacation weekend  for even the faithfully active.  He told us all to listen to the guy that speaks to us at every conference and not wait for some one special to show up.

I had a few things stick in my head from his remarks.  One was given as a one line quote from Elder Neal A. Maxwell while he was struggling with leukemia.  He (Maxwell) said,  "It's more important not to shrink than to survive."  In looking for a scriptural reference for that, I came upon actual words from Elder Maxwell.  It may be one of the best talks I've ever read and could give me enough little one-liners for a months worth of  blog postings.

I guess pondering on the things we hear and feel really is important--even if it leads us away from the person heard to some  place completely different.  By the way, the scriptural reference is Doctrine and Covenants 19:16-19.

16 For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;

 17 But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I;

 18 Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—

 19 Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men.

 Compared with the verse in Luke 22:42

42 Saying, Father, if thou be willing remove this cup from me;  Nevertheless not my will, but thine be done. 

I'm not exactly sure what the meaning is. Is he saying if he drinks the bitter cup--goes through the suffering, he has to do it without shrinking--he has to carry the load with his head up? No whining or complaing--no wanting a reward for enduring it--giving the glory to the Father? Or is it that following His will would have been the "shrinking". The meaning of his words kind of remind me of the difference between enduring to the end and just lasting. I don't have the ultimate conclusion to my thoughts yet--more pondering.

I include the full text of "The Pathway to Discipleship"  because it's that good. 

Comfort and Joy

So I was driving in to pick Keith up from work tonight so we could have a date and I didn't want to turn on the radio, so I was singing Christmas carols.  It's pretty amazing how many there are and how many verses of each one you can actually remember if you just start singing.

After I had done all the usuals, I started "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen."  I don't know why but I had the wrong picture in my head for that one.  I saw jolly robust men with beer steins in their hands.  There must be an illustration somewhere that gave me that impression or something.  Anyway, as I sang the words, they really touched me.  I sang the first verse 3 times, stopping and thinking about it each time.  It goes like this:

God rest ye merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour,
Was born on Christmas day:
To save us all from Satan's pow'r
When we were gone astray:
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.

Those are very powerful lyrics to me.  They say  rest from your cares.  Don't let anything trouble you right now, because the Savior is here.  He's come to save us from the devil--not too many Christmas songs mention Satan, but in fact, that is why Jesus came--because we all sin.  I like that it says,"when we go astray,"  not if--we all do, it's just a matter of time.  Then the chorus--Comfort and Joy.  There's the 2 things I need most.

It's a good Christmas carol and I've never really given it a chance before.  I've just sang it and thought about men getting merry. 

Blackness

I had a thought today.

I thought about the darkness  following the Savior's death that was recorded by the Nephites.  The earthquakes, the floods, the tumult, the 3 days of blackness so thick that a fire couldn't be lit.

I thought about how the Father wanted the whole world to know his Son was dead.  He didn't want there to be any question in any one's mind that the world would never be the same again.

 

I'm fairly certain every parent who loses a child would like the world to go black for a time--just so there's no question.

Christmas Photo

Wish we were getting a family photo taken for Christmas, but "family photo" is kind of an oxymoron now.  I'm sure at some point we'll take another one--not right now.

Keeping on Course

Last week, the day after Thanksgiving we decided to forgo the black friday shopping for a day a Funworks.  We played miniature golf, drove go-carts, and rode the bumper cars.  We also got a handful of tokens for the arcade.  The best part was I bought the pass months ago on Groupon, so it felt like it was free.  We had a great time  It wasn't crowded at all and we avoided the mayhem at the mall.

I always seem to get the car that won't go fast or doesn't steer well.  It never fails.  This time, I finally decided that if I couldn't go fast, I would swerve all over the road to at least entertain myself.  It was ridiculous when Mikey nearly lapped me on the course.  I pretty much stink at the driving games on video games too.  The kids don't inform me that I've chosen the worst vehicle and driver/character until after I'm so frustrated that I quit.  I personally think I drive fine in my real car.  I don't get tickets or have accidents--well, not too many--knock on wood.

As we were reading the other night,  a couple of verses reminded me of driving go-carts. 

 1Timothy 1:5-6

 5 Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience,   and of faith unfeigned:

 6 From which some having swerved have turned aside unto vain jangling;

With all the times I've read about the "strait and narrow" and  God not walking in "crooked paths"  or "turning from the right hand to the left,"  I don't ever remember reading about "swerving." 

That's what  we mortals do sometimes.  Swerve.  We feel our lives aren't fast enough or exciting enough or that being charitable and pure in heart just isn't going anywhere, so we swerve--just like I did on the the go-cart course.  There's a lot of worldly things jangling at us trying to get our attention.  Especially at Christmas.  I'm going to try to stay on track and keep Christ the center of my focus, so I don't have to recover from veering off the road.

It's a Very Blustery Day

This morning was good.  It was brisk outside.  I drove to Folsom to the temple.  It's surrounded by huge trees and a few wild turkeys.  I didn't see any of them today (the week after Thanksgiving and all), but the bright blue sunny sky and the leaves blowing made me cheerful.  There were places on the drive where you couldn't see the road because of the leaves.  It reminded me of New Hampshire.  It also got me thinking.

Leaves are their most beautiful, vibrant colors right before they fall.  They're great in the spring when they are small and soft as velvet, but they aren't nearly as majestic.  There was a woman in the temple, helping me today.  I was looking closely at her hands.  They were dainty and gnarled.  They were covered in age spots and the veins were all  poking out.  You know what I thought?  They were so beautiful.  I love to be around old women.  They are so wise.  They are perfectly seasoned.  They've been through enough hard things in their lives that they know when not to speak, they know when to joke and when to throw their hands up in the air.  They know which things really matter.  They are closer to the bright colors of autumn in their lives.  I'm sure some of them want to cling with all their might to the branches of this life and some will be excited for the winds to blow through.

I know.  I have weird thoughts.  Whatever.

The blowing leaves also made me think of change.  Passing time.  I wish I could say that it made me think of the imminent snowfall of winter, but not in CA.  I'm going to try really hard to make a change.  I'm going to try to leaf (get it) behind some things.  Regret, guilt, blame, judgement and the 'what if's, at least for a season.  The cold winter can chill me with grief and loneliness, but not with the other feelings.  They can stay buried in the leaf piles or by the snowdrifts.  I'm going in where it's warm for a while.

Again,  I know, weird.  That's my brain.

Thanksgiving

I'm just guessing that the number one thing to be thankful for isn't supposed to be that Thanksgiving is over, but hey,  I thought of something. 

I was glad that my house didn't get robbed the day before too.  That made for a great Thanksgiving a few years ago.

I'm thankful I didn't have to face the holiday alone.  I'm glad I have a partner who knows how I feel.  I love Keith.

I'm thankful for the friend who invited us to dinner and understood that we aren't back to normal and it would be a hard day for us.  She doesn't have a partner to face the holiday with.  She lost her husband 8 years ago.  We made good holiday sharers.  Hopefully her sons enjoyed it.  You never know.

I'm thankful for good parents.

I'm thankful for knowing the source of all blessings--A God who loves me even when I mope and whine and don't want to be thankful.

76 Trombones

I don't know how many times in my life I've heard people say they want to be a "tool in God's hands" or referenced that phrase in some way.  I've thought about my dad's or my husband's  tool bench with a hundred tools either laying out or up on a hook.  I've thought about how great it would be to be the special screwdriver that seems to get chosen for every job--the crescent wrench that adjusts to fit whatever nut needs to be loosened.  I can imagine the spiritual spotlight from above shining on the individual tool that is suited for the task at hand.  It's a good mental picture.  As it turns out, there is no scriptural basis for the phrase, at least that I can find.   It's kind of like  "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it."  Yeah, some great  phrase somebody made up and tried to put in God's mouth.

There are a few references to "instrument in God's hands."  They are all, however, in the Book of Mormon so the general population of Christendom doesn't read them or gain access to the  metaphor.  In Alma 26:3 it says,  "And this is the blessing which hath been bestowed upon us, that we have been made instruments in the hands of God to bring about this great work."  That's Ammon talking about sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I actually think I like the mental meaning better for instrument than tool.  Instruments are, for the most part, only used for making beauty.  Tools make me think of grime and sweat and Murphy's Law, whereas music  evokes feeling; touches the soul; calms or excites.  Again, I wonder, "How do I be the instrument that gets picked up?"  It also makes me think about my piano playing and how great it would be to be the piano played by Someone who never makes mistakes--just always sounds like it's supposed to.  That brings up the "keeping ourselves in tune" phrase. 

As long as I'm in tune, does it matter if I'm the base drum that's needed in every song or the euphonium that most people have never even heard of?  Philosophically, for this discussion, probably not, but it's hard to keep that in mind all the time--especially when the bass drum is booming along in perfect rhythm.

I found one other metaphor that belongs here.  2 Timothy 2:20-21  "But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and some to dishonour.  If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use and prepared unto every good work."  I think this means that some of us are shiny and seen as really impressive, but others of us are wood or clay, and as long as we are all  clean  inside, we can be equally usable in God's hands.  Is it awful that I would still rather be gold than wood?

I want to be used by God.  I want to be the french horn solo in the Christmas pageant of life.  I want to be the pitcher that's perfectly polished on the table for a feast.  I know.  It's wrong.  I guess I want him to pick me up even if I'm just a pinch-pot or a  kazoo.

Whine, whine, whine

One line of a talk in sacrament meeting has stuck with me this week.  The talk was about gratitude, but that was not necessarily the message I received. 

The line was "no misfortune is so bad that whining about it won’t make it worse."  It's from a talk titled "The Tongue of Angels" given by Jeffrey R. Holland in the April 2007 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  After thinking about it for a few days, I decided to look up the reference.  I listened to it online in his own voice.  I have to say I should frame many parts of it and put them on my fridge.

There are so many scriptures I've underlined over the years on gaining control over what comes out of my mouth.
A soft answer turneth away wrath.
It's not what goes in, but what comes out of your mouth that gets you.
Don't provoke your children.

This talk kind of brought them all together and gave me a real wake up call.  I need to say less.   Say it better and still find a way to  be myself without the abrasiveness.  It's a hard line for me.  I like being open.  I like people knowing where I stand.  I don't like people feeling intimidated or judged by me.  I don't like hurting people's feelings. 

Back to the quote.  I do whine.  I think, truth be told, it gives me some power.  Trying to do what's expected of me is difficult.  Whining to my husband, my mom, or the occasional friend helps me express my will, even when I do someone else's.  Nevertheless, whining isn't a good thing.  It does stir the proverbial pot.  Like he said, it does make things worse.

Here's the link:  The Tongue of Angels  I would encourage it for everybody.

NTT--no title today

There's a  whole lot going on keeping me from posting anything.  First, the holiday season is here.  Halloween is just the awful start to the whole thing.  Maybe Thanksgiving would be easier if it didn't follow Halloween, which glaringly points to the big gaping hole in our family and masks all the things we obviously have to be grateful for.  I don't know.

Second,  reading more, as I have this year, has made me realize that no matter what thoughts or feelings I have, someone else has already had them and can express their ideas as good or better than I can.  Knowing that God's children are as vast as the stars in the heavens or the sands on the seashore doesn't do wonders for the "I'm unique or special" confidence.

Third, if I don't sit down at the keys and let something come out,  I can better pretend that there's nothing to come out.  I'm standing at a dike again.  A new dike.  If I let anything flow over it, I might not ever gain control of how powerful the waters become.  It could drown me.   Plus,  really, does that imagery make  any sense to anybody but me?  I doubt it.

I should be spending my time doing things that are actually productive.  I mean if sitting at a computer typing was  accomplishing anything it would be different--I'm discouraged.  Plain and simple.  Nothing comes from me doing this.  It doesn't change anything.  I'm still the one woman out of billions, who impacts very few other people.  The one person who needed me the most, who was most directly affected by my actions, my realm of responsibility is gone.

Last, is it really fair to sit here and type while Keith is at work taking care of me?  He has way more crap to deal with than I do.  I'm sure spending time at hospitals and with grieving families has really boosted his week.  But he's done it and I'm sure he's done it well.  I just need to follow his example and plow ahead and stop thinking so much.

Playing nice with Others

"Be who you are and say what you feel,  because those who mind don't matter,  and those that matter don't mind."  --Dr. Seuss

For someone like me, who is forever saying too much, or the wrong thing,  this quote is profound.  I will have several occasions to keep it in mind this week.  Maybe if I decide it's okay to just be myself--really okay, then I will be happier.  Yeah, that'll happen.

Soldier On

Soldier on, to persist steadfastly in one's work; persevere: to soldier on until the work is done.

Words are great.  I was reading in Timothy this morning because I was wide awake an hour before I needed to be.  Timothy and James are my favorites in the New Testament.  There is so much good stuff in them--and so compact.  Plus, they aren't as hard to understand as some of the others.

The verse that caught my attention  was 2 Timothy 2:3  "Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ."  The footnote says hardness means affliction or vexation--so anything that irritates or bothers or hurts.

In my world this means--
Endure to the end and don't let anything stupid get in the way--no matter how big or small.  You signed up to be a disciple of Christ, so be one.

Soldier on doesn't mean to simply exist.  It means to keep fighting.  So does Endure to the end.  Like it or not, doing what is right is a fight.

Paul's Admonition to the Philpians

Philippians 4:8

 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Lady Gaga
Two and a half Men
Us Weekly
The Hangover
Real Housewives of Everywhere
National Enquirer
Fitty Cent

How is our world doing seeking after the good, the true, the lovely?
Not great.
I need a few adjustments myself.
Maybe I should make New Year's Resolutions now while I'm thinking about it.

Sight-seeing

I was telling someone recently that I was a Red Sox fan and I got the typical look from someone who isn't.  Poor thing!  People who love any other team just don't know what they are missing.  That got me to thinking about how my love for one and only sports team came about.

The first  professional  baseball game I ever saw--maybe the first professional game of any sport, was at Fenway Park.  Spoiled, I know.  What a great introduction to America's pastime.  (Although, I went with an Irish friend and had to explain the play and strategy the entire time.)  I've been hooked ever since.  Hooked my son--sons.  I'm not sure about Lucy, but I think so.

I've been a lot of cool places and seen many awe-inspiring things.  So today,  I decided to make a list.  15 places I've been and 10 I still need to see.  I can dream, right?

1.  The Berlin Wall
Do you call it that even if you aren't right in Berlin?  I saw it out in the country.  It was a fence with barbed wire and raked dirt on either side.  There was a wooden tower we could climb up on.  My parents and I were the only people there.  There was a farmhouse about 100 yards from the fence.  We talked about how awful it would be to live so close and have to look at that reminder everyday that you were that close to freedom, but couldn't have it.  There was a soda can on the tower and I kicked it by accident and the guards came running with their rifles pointed at me.  I'll never forget that feeling.

2.   Niagra Falls
I don't ever think I will get over the shock that they fall into Canada instead of into the U.S.  With my literalness of map reading skills, it seems impossible.  Canada is above New York.

3.  Arlington National Cemetery and Monuments
I love cemeteries so this was overwhelming for me.  My friend Robyn and I decided we could walk to the cemetery from quite a ways away.  We we glad to have a rest as we watched the guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier.  We were there the weekend that the Vietnam Memorial opened.  Watching the familiy members find their loved one's name on the wall was more impressive than the wall itself. 

4.  Holland
The whole small country, from the cheese market in Alkmaar to the china painting in Delft.  From the scenery in Maastricht to the windmills at Kinderdicht.  I loved my summer in Holland.

4.  Valley Forge
Not only are the green rolling hills in that  part of Pennsylvania gorgeous, but Valley Forge is one of those places where you can feel the hallowedness of the place you are standing.  It's the feeling there--the feeling of freedom.

5. Versailles Palace
Many things in France are inspiring:  Notre Dame, the Louvre, etc.  My favorite place was Versailles.  I remember a particular painting on the wall.  I remember the chariot race tracks--on the roof.  I remember the impeccably pruned gardens and statuary.  I remember the bike ride in the countryside around it with my dad.

6.  Autumn Leaves in New England
No matter how many times a person hears how beautiful they are or sees pictures,  there's no way to imagine what autumn leaves are like in New Hampshire.  They are 3-4 times as big as anywhere else I've ever been.  Driving down a country lane and having them all over the road is so peaceful as is watching them drift slowly from the branches down to the ground.

7.  Victoria Harbor Hong Kong
The skyline of all skylines reflected on the "fragrant harbor" which is the translation for Hong Kong.  I especially loved looking at it from the deck of the Star Ferry crossing to the Kowloon side.

9.  Give Kids the World
I can't count how many times I choked up during our week there, thinking about a man who dedicated his life to making a safe and happy place for kids with life-threatening illnesses.  It's not on the list of most people who go to Orlando and isn't open to the public, but serves families who need some time to truly relax.  There's an ice cream shop that's even open for breakfast.  It's all free and everyone there is smiling.  It rivals Disney as the happiest place on earth.

10.  The bombed federal building in Oklahoma City
Some things you see leave impressions for all the wrong reasons.  We passed through OK on our move to New Hampshire just a few days after the bombing.  We didn't know how close we were to the building.   We thought all the boarded up buildings were just a bad part of town,  then we realized.  It was horrible.  I took a photo out the car window with a billboard that said "God bless Oklahoma City in the foreground and the crumbling mess in the background.  We went back years later to see the memorial with the lighted chairs representing all the lives lost.

11.   The view from the crown of the Statue of Liberty
I hear people can't climb that high anymore.  I don't know if that's true, but it was great.  It was also good to learn the history.  The idea that one country would give that kind of gift to another is probably a thing of the past.

12.  Crater Lake
You can't top nature.  The beauty God gave the earth is better than anything man could ever do.  The clear blue water sitting in the bowl formed by a volcano is worth the trip.  Some form of camping definitely has to make my list.  This one was pretty close to  perfect.  Keith reading Harry Potter to us on the deck of a patio boat is a highlight.

13. The Sacred Grove
Each time I read the account of Joseph Smith's first vision I can see the location because I have visited it.  It's beautiful, but not at all what I expected.  I don't know why.  It was simple.  I guess that's fitting.   Palmyra isn't on many vacation must-see lists, but it makes my 15.

14.   17 Mile Drive

Driving the coastline between Monterey and Carmel California is bliss.  The cypress trees that dot the shore aren't found anywhere else in the world except the place they are named after.  The rocky coast and the waves are breathtaking.

15.    Fenway
That's what started the list-making process.  I love the Red Sox.

Honorable Mentions
Graceland
Grand Canyon
The Freedom Trail in Boston
The Alamo
Lantau Island Hong Kong
The Champs Elysee in Paris
Maine
The Golden Gate Bridge
Yosemite National Park

The 10 places I haven't visited yet are:

1.    Seattle with the space needle and Pike's Market
2.    "The Heads"  Mount Rushmore
3.    Phnom Penh
4.    The Emerald Isle of Ireland
5.    The jazz clubs and cemeteries of New Orleans
6.    China's great wall
7.    Gettysburg
8.    Venice, Milan, and Rome Italy
9.    Savannah, Georgia in all it's southern charm
10.  Pyramids in Egypt--but I don't think I could feel safe in that part of the world now.

3 Children

I went to a meeting at school today and we were going around the room with all the parents introducing themselves and saying what part of the school their kids were in.  I was nearly last.  I said,  "I have 2 kids--one in Delta Vista and one in Vita Prep."  I sat down and immediately turned to Lucy and asked her if I said I have 2 kids or if I said I have 2 kids here.  She assured me that I said the latter, but I don't think so. 

One of the teachers came up to hours later and said how heart-breaking it was to hear me say I had 2 kids.  I wonder how many of the teachers and faculty felt the same way.  I would have said it the same way if Ian were in college or out on his own, right?  He's not a student there.  I've been thinking about it all afternoon.  Was it wrong or bad?  Was I disloyal?  Did his former teachers flinch? 

My conclusion is that  it's probably good that I said it the way I did, because if I would have acknowledged my former, but no longer student,  I would've choked up in front of all those people, embarrassed Lucy and for what? 

I have 3 children.  3 great children.  I just don't get to mother 3 children anymore.  Sucks for me!

3, 2, 1, It's Halloween

The countdown to Halloween has been difficult for me this year.  Different than last.  Last year I was determined to not let Ian down by my lack of enthusiasm for his favorite day of the year.  Hoping he could see that all that was ever important to him was still important to me.  I still feel that way to a certain degree, but now I'm forced to wonder--at 17 would Ian still be psyched about Halloween?  Would he have grown out of it?  Can't say.  He's not here.

We considered all the gross or gruesome things we could do at the cemetery to share the holiday with Ian but decided it would not be received well by others.  I won't see Ian in a costume this year so I thought I would post some of the best ones.

Groovy Dude

At Dad's office in Texas

Mad Scientist for the Spook Alley

Biker with a real Harley Davidson Jacket

Elvis--most kindergartners love Elvis right?

This one just makes me sad.  He was soooo ill.

Couch cushion with straps

"Dad did my makeup!"

"Fighter-fighter"

And best of all, the best costume and the best attitude in the world--Napoleon Dynamite!!!

He was so disappointed that his Hispanic friend Jordan wouldn't be Pedro.

Candy Corn

1.  I hope I never have to be in the hospital, ever, in my whole life. 
2.  I hope if I do, someone who loves me sits there all day with me.
3.  I hope if I have a silly request for something as easy as candy corn that somebody gets it for me.
4.  I hope visiting the sick makes up for some of the weaknesses I have.
5.  I hope one more person I visit in the hospital doesn't die.

Ghost Festival

There are things that you encounter in your life that you just aren't able to absorb at the time.  Maybe that's how some people are with strange food or new surroundings.  I don't know.  I love new strange things.  I love interesting viewpoints and differences of opinion.  I remember reading about ethnocentrism before going to Holland to be an exchange student.  That's a good word to learn the meaning of when you are barely a teenager.  It can help you have an open life. 

There's one thing though, one custom that I  came across in Hong Kong that took a while absorb.  And now, 20 years later, I really understand it, almost to the point I could embrace it.  In the fall, coinciding with the full moon and the harvest, there is a religious holiday called the ghost festival. 

It is a day when  Chinese faithful feast, pray and take care of their dead.  That means they buy gifts and necessities and give them to loved ones.  There are elaborate paper houses that stand 3 feet tall. 

There are paper cars and jewelry, as well as full sets of paper clothing. 

The money--hell bank notes are bought by the boxful. 

These items, along with all kinds of food, are burned--turned to ash, so they enter the realm of the dead.  (I guess in a place where most people are cremated, you could believe that it was possible for other things to be able to go to the same place through burning.)  Believers say that they must help their ancestors leave hell by providing for their needs.

It takes time to really wrap your head around the idea.  On it's face it's just a smoky version of our Halloween--ghosts, demons, lots of treats.  But when you really ponder it, it's about the love that needs a place and time to continue.  If I subscribed to it,  I could still buy Ian T-shirts.  I could pick out a car for him and make sure he had plenty of spending money.  I know I'm still his mom and love endures and there are things we have done--like temple work--to ensure him  blessings.  I actually look at this Chinese tradition as a version of the scripture in Hebrews 11:40 

"God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect."

On a more temporal level though,  I can't cook for Ian or do his laundry and give him dating advice or 9 million other things.  I can see why shopping and cooking and then burning at ghost festival gives Chinese families comfort.

Mae Francis

I have a very good friend.  Her name is Mae.  She is one of the most interesting people I've ever known.  She has been through so much in her life.  I can't think of a single trial a person could go through that she hasn't personally taken on.  I would list them, but somehow that seems to detract from the straight-backed, head-high way that she faced them.  She wouldn't want me to spread her business around.

I've really  missed her the past week--she died last October.  I've been reading The Help and I would love to sit in Mae's living room and discuss it with her.  She was born in the late thirties in the South and would have been around the age of all the characters in it.  I'm sure her mother or grandmother worked in a white family's home.  I remember her stories about it.  I remember her stories of walking to school and seeing the white kids on the bus going the other direction to their school.  I could listen to Mae tell stories for hours.

I miss listening to her--her deep, years of smoking voice.  I miss the wisdom that came through when she told me how to manage an issue with one of my kids.  I miss the laughing.  Give me a wise woman in her sixties or seventies any day.  I wish I had a photo of her already in my computer so I could post it.  I hope she and her sister Iva are laughing and telling stories where they are now.

Gathering

3rd  Nephi Chapter 10

4. . . how oft have I gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and have nourished you.

5 And again, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, yea, O ye  . . .  that have fallen; yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not.

6 O ye house of Israel whom I have spared, how oft will I gather you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, if ye will repent and return unto me with full purpose of heart.


These verses are some of the words that Christ spoke from the heavens before He descended in the Americas after his resurrection.  They are so indicative of how we are loved by Him.  He has gathered;  He has tried to gather--but at times was rebuffed;  He will keep gathering.

He doesn't want to lose us.  As I read, there was so much imagery--the lilies, the birds, the sheep,  the house upon a rock,  the pearls covered in the muck of a pig sty.  These are the same things He spoke of  in the Sermon on the Mount.  This was the Sermon on the Mount for this group of people.  I think one reason He used so much imagery is because their are so many who need to see to believe.  After centuries, through these images, we can see what He means--what He meant.  The concepts aren't free-floating.  They are concrete.  The photos of real hens and chicks help me see what He was trying to convey.



I want to be scooped up under His wings.  Again and again.

Faith vs. Fear

I was looking through some photos today and this is one that gave me pause.  I remember this night so clearly.  I have so many regrets about it.  I even wrote a letter to the prophet about it later--years later.

President Hinckley came to Massachusetts to speak at a regional conference.  My parents were in town.   We all thought it would be great to go.  It was quite a drive from our apartment in Derry  and I don't think it was the best weather.

The whole time we were getting ready,  I was thinking about the woman in the New Testament who had been sick for many years and touched the Savior's robe and was healed.  I wished I could think of a way to get close enough to the prophet for him to touch Ian because I knew I had enough faith for it to work.  I kept it to myself though.  I was embarrassed or ashamed to have such a thought.

Maybe if it had just been Ian and me,  I would have tried it.  I didn't want Keith or my parents to think I was a lunatic when I took off at a dead run, plus I didn't want to get stopped by security with suits and earpieces.   

In the 10+ years since that night,  I've never read or heard the story of that brave, faithful woman without crying.  I've never read the verse in the scriptures that talks about not being ashamed for believing without wondering.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?

I know that blessings are blessings and authority is authority and anyone who worthily holds the priesthood blah, blah, blah.   I was in the same room as the guy who talks to Christ and  didn't take my shot.  Fear really is the enemy of faith.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?  I can just add that to the thousands of questions that I don't have answers to.

See Him As He Is

I'm so curious about what my personal relationship with the Savior is.  He has so many names;  so many jobs.  I scrolled out something in the car about a month ago and I thought I'd type it out before I lost the scrap of binder paper.

When I meet Him again
Who will I see?

Will He be like my brothers here on earth--
Teasing,
Protecting,
Giving advice?

Will He be like a king with fanfare and robes--
Onlookers gawking,
Bowing,
Seeking his attention?

Will He be like a judge behind a great seat--
Solemn,
Stern,
Doling out justice?

Will He be like a prophet relaying God's word--
Teaching,
Repeating,
To all who will listen?

Will He be like a rescuer with life-saving gear--
Searching,
Strong,
Throwing me a rope as I hang off a cliff?

It shouldn't end here.  I should have an answer.  Poems should have resolution at the end.  But,  I don't know the answer.  I don't know what I will see.  Sometime I can work out the rhythm and make it more sound more poetic, but I can't finish until I actually see Him.

I hope when that happens that I'm ready.  I hope it's a happy meeting.  I hope I recognize Him, in whatever way I see Him.   I hope it's as my big brother and that we have a close relationship, maybe even an inside joke or two.  It makes it easier for me to think of the Savior dying for me when I think about my brothers.   They aren't  perfect.  They don't call or email very often, but I don't doubt that they would die for me if it came to that.  What's the real difference?

I Could Use Some Exercise

I came across a scripture verse this week that I've been thinking about.  It's in Acts, Chapter 24, verse 16.  It's a part of Paul's  testimony to Felix after being captured.  It reads,  "And herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men."  I remember underlining it while we were reading as a family.  I was laying down and doing a horrible job.  The word offence is almost completely crossed out because I didn't sit up or use a ruler.  I made quite a lengthy note next to it that night.

"5-22-11  Exercise is a good word to describe the practice it takes to be able to not get offended by things others do to us and also not to see events in our lives as offences by God.  We need to work on it often to be strengthened in this way just like teaching a muscle through exercises."

I haven't been doing too well at that.  In fact, in thinking about all the things  people have done and said to me lately--or not done and said,  maybe I should take some responsibility for my reactions.  If everyone around offends me,  then maybe I'm just too offendable. 

I think maybe I'm like sandpaper.  I'm so rough that everything catches on me.  Things that shouldn't.  Comments that really aren't insensitive or ignorances that can't be helped.   People aren't in my head.  They don't see through my eyes.  They don't know that when I  say I'm fine and quickly change the subject, that I  don't mean it.   They are all fooled into thinking that I'm strong and well-adjusted.  

The problem with being sandpaper is that there will always be things to catch on.  Always.  There will be people complaining about their kids.  There will be talks and lessons on miracles following faith--they do, after all.  There will be many, many things for the rest of my life that can hurt for a second or for a week.  I get to choose that.

I think I'd rather be the thing that got rubbed by  the sandpaper--the smooth, shiny, beautiful thing that is left--the piece of wood with the interesting and unique grain from all it's growth and challenges, even if there are a few knots.

I need to follow my own advice written next to this scripture verse and start exercising my 'don't get offended' muscles.  I need to be more like my Father in Heaven.  He doesn't take offense at all the silly things we do and say.  The only thing that offends Him is when we don't acknowledge Him in all things.  (D&C 59:21)--when we don't admit that He's in charge.

Prayer Cue Card

I remember in the first few weeks I was in Hong Kong I was nervous about praying in Chinese because I really had to concentrate to think of what to say and then the pronunciation was atrocious.  One day I took a tan cardstock "things to do" card and made a list of all the things I could say in my prayers.




Why put a photo of a to do list when I can put a photo of Hong Kong?



I still have the card with the horrible romanization penned on it.
I think I need to make a new card.   I've had to scrap some of the things I was used to saying and start over with more appropriate phrases.  When I'm not focused I revert to the old stand-bys and then get that catch in my throat and feel bad for saying things I don't mean.

Here's an example from a dinner prayer:  "We're thankful we are all back together tonight."  Every time I slip and say that, inside I think,  "No,  I'm not.  We aren't all here."  There's about 20 of them.  The standard things, not necessarily rote phrases, but just things you say.  Then there's the askings.  What blessing do I want?  Do I ask to be happy or to be able to move on or what?  I need a card.

I heard something at the funeral today that I'm going to put on the top of my list.  The woman that died prayed every day and night that she would be able to endure to the end.  I could say that without a pause or a catch or thinking I wasn't being sincere.  I like that--I have to do it--endure, so I should ask for help with it.  I'm going to start my list with that.  Then,  bless me with the Comforter.  I didn't think of that on my own either, but it's good.  I made a partial list a few weeks ago just from reading my patriarchal blessing.  I looked at all the counsel in it and thought I should specifically pray for those things.  It made me feel good for a few days.  It gave me focus.  Unfortunately my attention span is rather short and I'm not feeling very patient.  Answers now would be a good thing.  If Heavenly Father could tell me what to do with my life now that would be great.

I've said it and written it before, when there is only really one thing you want and you can't ask for it, it's hard to ask for other things. 

I guess I can make a pretty good prayer out of these few things and then just pray for other people.  There is always lots of people in need.  I'll just pray for them.  I can pray for my brother to remember how he felt when he used to go to church.  I can pray for his kids who are growing up without any gospel support.  I can  pray for my parents, that they can stay healthy and strong, but eventually they won't be and that's more apparent now than ever.   I can pray for my other brother and his family.  Their lives aren't quite as perfect as I've always thought.  I can pray for all those who  persecute me and despitefully use me--just kidding.  I pray for Keith.  He has so many burdens.  I pray for Lucy, that she will have friends who love her.  I pray that Mikey will stay sweet and not change when the testosterone starting  pumping.

But for me,  I'm just going to pretend that prayer language is a new language just like Chinese was and refer to my cue card and decide that even if  praying makes me bawl every time, I have to do it anyway.

How was your day Mom?

What to say?   Nothing good.  Here's my top ten list of reasons I can't function:

  1.  There's a funeral I need to go to tomorrow.  I can listen to crying people talking about the plan of salvation and all the comfort it is when you lose an 87 year old great grandmother whose husband has been waiting for her for decades.
  2.  A woman in our ward just got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.  Oh yeah,  I can't go see her because she's at Stanford hospital where--I'm not even finishing this sentence.
  3.  My friend started her own business.  That sounds good right?  I can't even come up with anything in my day interesting enough to talk about at the dinner table,  let alone figure out what productive thing I can do to ease Keith's burden in bringing in all the cashflow.
  4.  I heard from my brother for the first time in months--he needed a favor.
  5.  I finally felt OK playing the piano one time and somebody had to make a snide remark.
  6.  My only local friendship is beyond fixing--don't even want to anymore.
  7.  I made an effort to invite my mother-in-law over and it was weird and awkward and her husband was rude.
  8.  Made the final move with my brother-in-law and thought it would make me feel better--Nope.
  9.  The heartwalk went well that day, but I don't have the strength to get more involved.
10.  My friend's son is coming home from his mission this week and mine's not.

Oh, I guess there's 11 because I feel like pulling a "Jack" and running away for a year.

3 hours until I have to look and act like everything's fine.  Yah.

Apple Hill

I had a bit of a breakdown last night.  I told Keith it feels like everything is the same.

He goes to work.
The kids go to school.
I'm at home.
We go to church.
We pay the bills.
There's fall festival at school.
There's temple trips.  (today)
It's all the same.
Except Ian's not here.
Nothing is the same.
Everything has moved on.
Everybody has moved on.
The calls are rarer.
They aren't "Are you OK" calls.
The emails are fewer.
But  he's still not here.

It was a breakdown.

Keith and Lucy went to the temple this morning--without Ian.  We went to Apple Hill for the rest of the day.  It is a tradition.  Traditions keep going.  It wasn't easy.

There a moment in the van.  I knew, at that moment,  Ian was saying,  "I'm over this.  We've been here long enough.  I'm tired of the car.  Let's go home."  I smiled to myself.  He was there.

Steve Jobs Who?

Watch out.  This is going to sound terrible.

I'm the one person in the world that doesn't think that Steve Jobs is any more important than anyone else.  I feel compassion for his family and close friends.  Loss is horrible.   But,  I will just never understand why it is such a big deal when some one well-known dies.  Do we think money or celebrity somehow makes famous people above dying?  We have to break in to national network programming and inform the entire country at the same time--really.  He'd been dying for years.  Everyone close to him had seen him, cared for him and knew his fate.

It's not news that I blame technology for the lack of civility we have today--the lack of personal contact.  I know everyone else thinks technology helps us connect more.  I don't buy that.  There's concern that can only be transferred in person.  There's a level of class that is found in a hand-written note.

Case in point,  Keith came home and told me  what he'd heard about the biography coming out later this month.

  "Just a few weeks before his death, Steve Jobs revealed in an interview that he agreed to an authorized biography on his life so that his children could know why he wasn't always there for them."

Really,  the dying man tells the writer why he wasn't there for his  kids--not his kids?

In the grand scheme of things,  Steve Jobs life  here on earth wasn't any more important than the starving baby in Ethiopia.  No, I don't think the baby's not important.  I think they are the same.

Yeah,  I guess I'm a little warped.

Crime and Punishment

Last week I got to a point in the Book of Mormon that I love--Alma talking to his 3 sons and giving them advice and counsel.  He talks to Helaman first, then Shiblon.  These two sons were good and did the things they should.  Alma was proud of them.  It's great to hear a father tell his sons about his past mistakes and admonish them not to make the same ones.  He tells of his great conversion and his angelic visitation.  He says how good it feels to make the right choices now.  He emphasizes how important it is to learn to be good while they are young.  It's a little amusing to me that he goes on about how good they are and then says but don't think you're better than others--typical parenting talk.

Then Alma takes Corianton aside.  He's the not-so-obedient son.  Alma shows him where he has gone wrong and tells him to clean up his act, but then the real meat of the gospel is laid out--the whole thing in about 3 chapters.  It's all about how the atonement and resurrection make life fair for the whole human family and how good is rewarded with good and bad, well, isn't.  I love it.  Corianton has a lot of concerns, as do all sinners and this loving father lays it all out for him.

The part that really struck me when I read it is in Chapter 42 of Alma.  Here's the whole chapter if you want the context.  In verse 16 it starts, 

16 Now, repentance could not come unto men except there were a punishment, which also was eternal as the life of the soul should be, affixed opposite to the plan of happiness, which was as eternal also as the life of the soul.  17 Now, how could a man repent except he should sin? How could he sin if there was no law? How could there be a law save there was a punishment?  18 Now, there was a punishment affixed, and a just law given, which brought remorse of conscience unto man.

This is really interesting to me.  I read it to mean that punishments are really important.  Without punishments rules don't matter.  Laws don't matter.  Commandments don't matter unless there are  punishments.  Our whole society is bent on doing away with punishments.  Consequences to actions have been tampered with.  Parents want to be the best friends of their children.  Teachers and administrators can't throw kids out of school.   Criminals are paroled early just because of overcrowding.  The death penalty is thought of as too horrible for even the most vile of murderers.  Alma goes into that next. 

19 Now, if there was no law given—if a man murdered he should die—would he be afraid he would die if he should murder?  And also, if there was no law given against sin men would not be afraid to sin.  And if there was no law given, if men sinned what could justice do, or mercy either, for they would have no claim upon the creature?

Isn't that pretty much where we are now?  We can't call anything a sin anymore outside of church because there is no moral code or compass in society anymore.  We can hear any swear word there is just by turning on the TV.  We can see any body part just by walking down the sidewalk.  Half of all children are born to single mothers;  most preteens have used some form of drugs or alcohol;  and lying and cheating has seemingly become acceptable to government officials and business professionals in every field.  The world has forgotten or ignored or simply decided to rebel against the notion that God's laws still apply.

22 But there is a law given, and a punishment affixed, and a repentance granted; which repentance, mercy claimeth; otherwise, justice claimeth the creature and executeth the law, and the law inflicteth the punishment; if not so, the works of justice would be destroyed, and God would cease to be God.

In my little realm, I can feel a little less guilty when I dole out a punishment.  If God's authority is destroyed by the lack of rules and punishments then so is mine and I kind of like the idea that I do one thing like Him.