On the rock our mothers planted, for us in this goodly land

Yesterday was a full day of sitting in one chair.  That is the worst kind of day.  Except the speaker we had was great, so there's that.  He talked to us about resilience and trauma.  Some of it was heavy, but some of it was hopeful too.

I loved that I was with my people.  I ate lunch with third and first and kindergarten teachers.  It could have been any combination and I would have enjoyed it.  For a person who mostly feels anxious in new social settings and would rather be left alone than engage in small talk, I love that I'm at a point with my school friends that we've moved past small talk.

I also got to chat a few minutes with Jill who was my relief society president in my BYU freshman ward.  I love that I keep running into her.

I also loved that I texted Mark before driving home to see if he would take a walk with me.  He said yes.  It was compensation for sitting in one chair all day.

***

Here's another thing that happened yesterday.  I was feeling frustrated and discouraged about something that matters a lot to me, but also isn't the end of the world, if that makes any sense.

I remembered Monday.  I remembered Emily Street and Ellen Jorgensen.  I remembered Arvella Nelson and Margaret Livingston.

Their blood is in my veins.

They did really hard things.

I want to meet them someday (see them again in the case of my grandma with the brown eyes, Arvella).  I want to tell them that I knew their stories and drew strength from them.

So I'd better be strong.