No Wishes

Lucy and I went to San Francisco today, even though she told me she didn't want to.  After all the crap she finally admitted she didn't think I could get us there and back.  Wow,  I hope someday my daughter will be proud of me and see me as more than the maid.  I think I've navigated as many big cities as some people ever even get to see--on my own.  Anyway,  I explained to her that fear doesn't keep me from doing things I want to do and I didn't want it to ever keep her back either.  (Besides, What fear?  I've driven her to SF a few times.  She just doesn't remember.) 

We went on BART--even more adventurous.  I had to ask questions and figure things out--SO.  That's what you do, right?  We shopped at Union Square for hours and found a sushi restaurant for lunch.  So now we can check those things off the list.  I had to drag her into the ritzy stores because she's embarrassed that we can't spend $700 on handbags.  Hopefully next time I'll even get her to try some fancy things on--baby steps.

We stopped at a street vendor who was selling personalized bracelets.  He even had a LUCY, but it was pink,  so  he made her a blue and black one on the spot.  I got one too.  I really wanted the one that said IAN,  but I didn't indulge.  When he tied them on ours wrists, he told us to make a  wish.  It's hard to know your wish can never come true.  I'll never have a different wish, and it will never be granted.  Ian can't come back to me.  As we walked away,  Lucy asked what my wish was.  I said, "I didn't make one."  She said, "Me neither."  I knew we'd both cry right there on the street if I asked her why.

I hope she has long enough left in her life to get a new wish.

Full Circle

Lucy noticed I wasn't wearing my wedding ring today--too many Pringles yesterday.  She gave me the look of disdain and I just laughed and said,  "Who's more married than me?"
"You're right,"  she answered,  "you're quite the Holly Housewife."

I think that is absolutely perfect.  From "Holly Hellrasier"  to "Holly Housewife".   I got a kick out of telling her that story--not Molly Mormon,  not Polly Pureheart,  but Holly Hellraiser.  To that she said,  "Mom,  I think you and I are more alike than either of us want to think."

I'm flattered and flabbergasted.

Why Choose?

Lucy and I watch "Tuck Everlasting" this afternoon.  It was okay--another 'somebody dies at the end' movie.  Shocker.  There was a quote in it that made me think.    "Don't be afraid of death...be afraid of the unlived life."  

What does that mean?   Am I not living my life if I get up and do my housewife chores everyday?  Is Keith not living because he fills his responsibilities first and has little time to play?   I think the term "unlived life" is a justification for many people to shirk their obligations.  I know people who just got up one day and decided they didn't want to be a parent or spouse any more and walked out the door.  I know people who just decided they didn't enjoy their career and walked--without any alternative plan in place. 

There's more to living than being fulfilled.  In fact, sometimes I think fulfillment is a luxury.  I mean, if I put out my easel and painted all day everyday, a part of me would be full, but 14 other parts would be empty.  If we used the little leftover money we have to visit some exotic location instead of yielding to the knowledge that we'll have to buy a new car soon,  would we be living our lives  more or better?   I don't think so.

The other thing that got me thinking in the movie was how Winnie had to choose between living now--with all that entails, e.g. changing, having children, growing old;  and being with the one she loved--forever. 

I'm glad I don't have to choose.  Temple marriage is a good thing.

Mornings

It's 9:38 am.  Keith and Mikey left for scout camp at 4:30 am.   Without Ian.   This was to be the year all 3 of them got to go together.   They had been talking about it for years.  I told Mikey I wouldn't be surprised if he felt Ian with him and to be sure and tell me about it when he got  home.   Lucy's still asleep--I know, 9:38 am.  It's giving me time to get a few things done and have quiet time to myself.   Besides, maybe she's doing what I do whenever I can--trying to dream about Ian.

I've heard several people say that mornings, when you first wake up, are the worst when you are grieving because for an instant, you wake and then have to re-remember how bad things are.  For me, mornings--especially now that school is out, are an opportunity.   I'm a dreamer.  I dream every night and usually remember them all.  Morning dreams are better though.  You can almost make yourself dream if you have long enough in bed.  I drift in and out 10 times on a good morning and can go back into the same dream if  I want to. 

I try to get time with my son in the mornings.   I'm not very successful.  This week,   I've dreamed about being a missionary several times.  I've dreamed about college.  I've dreamed about being kidnapped in exotic locations and many other things.  But I figure odds are in my favor.  The more dreams I have,  the more of them can have Ian in them.

Keith had a dream a week or so ago where Ian actually brought him a message.  While I was extremely jealous,  it scares me a little bit to think what message he would bring me from the other side.  My mom only remembers one dream about my brother in all these years and it was about him telling her if she didn't shape up, she couldn't be with him.  Wow,  my mom's pretty straight-arrow.  I can't think of much she could change. 

I also hope Mikey dreams of Ian.   I worry about him remembering.  I have so few memories of Stan.   I was younger, but not all that much.   I remember that today is the anniversary of his death--not technically.  It was the 18th of June, but it was the Monday after Father's Day.  I remember scenes from photos in the Christmas albums.  Is that actually a memory?    I hope we talk and look at photos and laugh enough for Mikey to lock in the memories of his older brother.  

Lucy brought up Ian this week.  That was good.  We got Keith a BBQ for Father's Day.  We were talking in the car and she said,    "Remember when Ian made chicken wings marinated in root beer and peanut butter?  They were so good!"  --and they were.  She does several things now that I think are in memory of  Ian.  She now loves the Beatles;  She wants to watch "Whose line is it anyway?";  She wants to name her son Garrett--that one is obvious.  There are a few others but I can't remember them.

So mornings are a luxury,  drifting in and out of sleep to catch a glimpse of my son.   I won't  pray for a dream again though.  I got an answer and what God gave me wasn't  happy.  This week maybe I'll just daydream  and fantasize that both my sons are together with their dad at scout camp.  Yeah,  I like that.

Adam's Transgression

I read  many scriptures today and really felt as though they were speaking to me and thought it would be easy to write about them.   When I sat down tonight,  I decided those messages were just for me.  I thumbed through and found a verse with a note by it that intrigued me.

Mosiah 3:16 " ...for behold, as in Adam, or by nature,  they fall,  even so the blood of Christ atoneth for their sins."

My note says, "4-4-08  This is speaking of the spiritual death.  See 1 Cor 15:22  It speaks of the physical death."

1 Cor 15:22 is the more common verse that says,  "For as in Adam all  die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."

I've made quite a distinction between the two parts of the atonement since my mission.  I'm not sure I really understood how separate, but equally important they were before that.  Christ overcame physical and spiritual death for us--not in that order.  First, he suffered for sin and pain and anguish before he died.  Then he came back into his lifeless body and made it possible for us to be resurrected.  We, on the other hand,  will be resurrected first and reunited with our Father second--if we repented and the atonement may be applied to us.  First,  last,  last,  first.  Whatever.  I have to say,  what good would one be without the other?Would I want to live forever if I couldn't be forgiven?  What good would it be to be clean and worthy if it was all over--no progression,  no afterlife?

I wonder if those two scriptures, were supposed to read differently or if through translation the one was altered.  I wonder if I'm supposed to see them the way I do. 

Blind Faith

When primary got to be too much for me yesterday,   I snuck into relief society and sat in the back.  I was really surprised at the discussion that was going on.  I disagreed on so many levels, but since I came in in the middle,  I didn't want to comment.  Now I do.

The instructor was talking about obedience and saying we need to do it without questioning.  She used the term "blind faith" more than once.  I was really uncomfortable with it.  To me, it's one of those things like predestination--something that is at odds with the plan.

I think I question too much and too often.  I think I have serious trust issues,  even with God,   but I also think we are supposed to question.  After all,  aren't we supposed to become as little children if we want to enter the kingdom of heaven?  Who asks more questions than little children?  What adult asks why as often as a child?  How else can we possibly know the nature of God without asking questions?

Somebody told me something wise recently.  I think it was my brother.  He said the only real test of faith is to be pushed so far past what we know that we have no choice but to question--in that questioning we come closer to God.  I think that's true.  I think blind faith is close to ignorance.  We are supposed to do things for the right reasons and I'm all for obedience being a good reason,  but if we don't wonder and ask what the reason is, how do we learn what the right reason should be?

"I will go,  I will do, the things the Lord commands.
I know the Lord provides a way.
He wants me to obey."   

This primary song about Nephi even suggests to me that we need to ask.  How do we learn about the way that's provided without asking the why and the how questions?  Maybe it's just semantics.  We need to obey,  but to me,  the asking,  seeking and knocking are intertwined and without them, there is no knowledge or testimony to go along with the obedience.

Leave it to Hillary

What can I say?  One of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know also reads my blog.  She knows I hate Sundays.  I think I've said it now about 25 times.  You know what kind, thoughtful people do?  They think of things to do to make people feel better.   She made my Sunday so much better.  She made hot fudge sundaes with homemade hot fudge and invited us over.  What a great friend.  My other blog readers are great friends too.  They just live too far away to invite me over for ice cream.

Wouldn't it be great if I could stop there and just say my Sunday was better.  When I get to be more like my great friends,  I'll stop when I finish saying good things and not whine and complain and be a curmudgeon.  What the heck,  I can do it.  I already vented on Keith anyway.

There.  I did it.