The valley my ancestors walked to.
Their stories (as familiar to me as Goldilocks and the Three Bears) swirl around me and hold me up if I ever feel like faltering.
In my mind's pared down version of things, the Salt Lake Temple is a beacon and the paramount feature of the landscape.
Adam and I were married there.
My parents were married there.
Both sets of my grandparents were married there.
When I look at the Salt Lake Temple, I feel courage. I feel gratitude and motivation and clarity. Everything that matters to me in my life, matters more because of the Salt Lake Temple.
Everyone I hold most dear is linked to me forever because of the Salt Lake Temple.
I can't sleep because in a few hours, Adam and I will join my parents and siblings and their spouses in the Salt Lake Temple (except Olivia and Edgar, who are home with their newborn and sorely missed). We're celebrating my parents' 40th anniversary.
But it feels like a lot more than that. More than I can express.
Maybe I'm just too happy to sleep.
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