Stalwart and brave

I just got back from a walk with Marianne (Olivia was busy).  We saw Hannah and Aunt Olivia and hugged and chatted a minute.  I have run out of ways to say how much I love it here.

Yesterday Marianne and Olivia and I walked on the bridle path along Boulder Creek.  We were talking about rings and I mentioned the ring my dad had made me on the occasion of my first date. Olivia said, “What?!?  He didn’t make me anything for my first date!”  

Marianne said, “He made me a necklace for my first date.”

Olivia said, “What?!?”

I said, “I guess you’re not his favorite like you always think you are.”

We stopped at my dad’s because I had to use the bathroom.  We walked in the door and I called, “Hi Daddy!  I need to use the bathroom and Olivia has a bone to pick with you.”

When I came out of the bathroom, Olivia was sketching on a piece of paper how she wants my dad to fashion her ring, which broke, into a pendant for a necklace.  She said that would make up for not getting first date jewelry.

I know my dad loves us, but collectively, we are kind of a lot.

My phone has ceased to get along with Adam’s iPad so I can’t add a picture of the statue I got from my mother.  It had been my grandma’s. (On the bottom, my grandma had written Coralee so that it got to its rightful place.) It is a statue of a woman kneeling in prayer.   Both of my grandmas actually used to have the exact same statue (my Aunt Olivia has Grandma Dahl’s).  

 I love the statue because it reminds me of my childhood and visiting my faithful grandmothers.  They were women who prayed.  I love that the statue was passed to my mom and then to me.  My grandma taught my mom to pray and she passed that to me.

Firm as the mountains around us, stalwart and brave they stand on the rock our [mothers] planted for us in the goodly land.

I have been feeling incredibly grateful for my life and all the blessings I have because my grandparents taught my parents and they taught me.  I don’t deserve any of it, but I feel very lucky to have landed where I did.  I feel motivated to follow the examples they left.  I don’t want to let them down.  I don’t want to live below their expectations.

I also miss my mom so much it hurts.  Going through her things is like reopening a wound.  There is also a sting of finality about it.  We have questions.  We want to know more about everything she knew about.  I don’t know what to do about the questions.  Where did you get this?  What is the story behind that?

I was looking at the things I brought home yesterday.  There are valuable pieces of jewelry that were my grandma’s, there are beautiful silver pieces my dad engraved, there are all sorts of things anyone would treasure as well as things that are treasures to only us.

One thing I have is a little tool my mom used for quilting.  I picked it up off the table when it was my turn to pick something.  

I would give anything to spend an afternoon quilting with my mom.

My sisters

 Yesterday morning I took a walk with Marianne.  (The three of us can walk together, we proved it Monday evening with a walk.). We talked and cried and laughed and explained and walked.  When the three of us were growing up and getting ready for school, we would ask each other.  “Does this look OK?”  “Does this work?”  “How about this?”

We could count on each other to tell the truth.

Now we do a version of the same thing.  When we talk, we reveal our worries and fears.  “Am I OK?”  “Is what I’m doing working?” “How about this?”

We still tell each other the truth.  And the truth is a version of, “You’ve got this and you are doing great.”

We convened at our dad’s again yesterday and went through our mother’s drawers.  More sorting and contemplating.  We moved to the kitchen table with the jewelry.  There were many things that our dad had made our mom over the years.  There was also a bracelet he gave her when they were high school sweethearts and a few other sentimental pieces our dad kept.  We selected some things for our sisters-in-law and made a granddaughter pile.  We divided the rest.  Marianne made a system (of course she did—we need her).  We each got a little stack of treasures; some had been our grandma’s and some our dear mother’s.

Olivia was crying at the end when she was boxing up stuff.  Our dad said, “Are you up for this?”

She said she was.  We are, even though we aren’t.  It is a paradox that this is too hard, but since we’re together, we can.

Marianne and Olivia came over for lunch and then a little later in the afternoon, our mom’s friend Merry and Demar’s wife, our aunt Lora, came because they wanted to visit and talk to us about our mom.  It was lovely.  They wanted to hear about our memories of her as a mother, if we were like her, what we’d learned from her and about her marriage to our dad.  I loved talking about it all and I loved that Olivia recorded what we were saying too.  Merry and Lora are two women my mom loved so much and it was good for all of us to connect and remember.

We all wish we were more like our mother.  Olivia and I were talking last night and decided that maybe (maybe) the three of us combined on our best day could come close.

We miss her

 Yesterday I told my dad I was trying to figure out why we don’t live here all the time.  I really love it.  

Olivia and I took an early walk and I went outside to wait for Olivia and our Aunt Olivia and cousin Hannah were walking by.  We stopped to chat and Hannah told me about the encounter they’d just had with a badger.  (More specifically it was an encounter one of their dogs had with the badger.). Hannah said it was “enough drama for the week.”

Olivia and I walked around the circle and she told me about her job and I told her about the dust bowl (I am seriously fascinated and it’s probably a good thing that I forgot my backpack with that book in it or I would keep telling everyone all about it).

Later my sisters and I met up at my dad’s to start the process of going through my mom’s things.  We didn’t know what my dad would want to do and I know we all wish she was here and we didn’t have to think about it.  We decided to start with the clothes, which was a lot.  Maybe we should have started with something less emotional, but we dove in.  

We laughed and cried a little more than we laughed.

There were certain clothes that we’d pull out that just reminded us so much of her and we’d weep.  We each took at least one sentimental shirt that we’ll never wear, but we will always treasure.  We made a huge pile of clothes for our sisters-in-law and daughters and nieces to consider (we’ll donate anything they don’t want) and we picked some clothes we wanted too.  Some of the clothes smelled just like her and we passed them around, inhaling and crying.

There were some clothes in a bin that had been our grandma’s.  I claimed a raincoat and it smelled like her house.  I wish someone could figure out how to bottle up scents like your grandma’s house or your mom.

My mom’s purse was in the bottom of the closet and I opened it and it was just 100% my mom’s purse.  The contents would have been the same when I was ten years old.  There is just something so comforting and familiar about your mom’s purse.  There were a lot of pens.  She was always ready with a pen.  There was a Reader’s Digest magazine, because she was never without reading material.  There were emery boards, keys, her wallet.  All the things.  I handed my dad the wallet and he pulled out her temple recommend and we cried fresh tears.  It was a prized possession of hers.

When everything was sorted and folded and contained, I came back to our house and cried.  I felt somehow like I’d lost my mother all over again.  I really don’t think it’s something I’ll ever get over and I guess I’m glad about that.

I am a lucky girl to be her daughter.

I am also so grateful for our good dad who hugs us when we cry together and is as ever, the steady in any storm.  I’m grateful for my sisters.  I’m glad we can be together.

Weekend

 I am writing from the most perfectly serene little spot.  My chair at the Home Place.  It makes me happy to be here.  That is all.

I cut some of the sweet peas my grandma planted for the table (her table).  

We drove here—in two cars—on Friday.  We stopped for gas at Maverik and Adam noticed two of his lug nuts had broken off!  I was grateful he noticed.  We parted ways, I headed to Starr Valley and he went to Les Schwab for a repair.  

It has been unusually hot in Starr Valley, where few people have AC.  It was 80 degrees in our house.  Once Adam arrived, he set up the AC unit Emma used to have in her apartment in our bedroom.  It helps a lot!

Braeden and Anna and Co. arrived and we were thrilled to see them.  It felt like a great bonus that we got another brief visit with them.  

Saturday morning my dad and Olivia came over to visit and then the Californians headed home.  It was harder to say good-bye to them this time, but then I remembered that at least we’ll see Braeden and QE in Washington next week.  That is a happy thought, although we’ll miss Anna and the YP.  

Adam worked outside (I pulled about 5 weeds, but that was all of my outside contribution).  I stripped the beds our guests had used and mopped and put the toys away and just generally tidied up inside.  It was climbing into the mid 90s outside so Adam called it quits in the early afternoon.  I napped and he caught up on email and work and church stuff.

I realized I had forgotten my backpack.  Inside was my computer and family history notebook, my journal and three books to read.  Tragic.  Adam, because he is the nicest soul, offered to drive back to UT to get it.  I told him that was ridiculous, though kind.  I decided I could adapt and overcome.  I got a book to read on Libby and Adam said I could use his iPad.  I found an old notebook in a drawer, so I am all set.

After dinner we, along with Olivia, went to visit my dad.

Early Sunday morning, Adam left to get to church on time in Pleasant Grove and then he is going to Nashville again.  My dad gave me a ride to church.  I always enjoy going to church in Wells.  I think it would feel like home even if I weren’t related to about 1/3 of the people there.

Olivia had my dad, Marianne and Robert and me over for dinner.  We ate a delicious meal (I had offered to bring grapes and I forgot them) and had a Come Follow Me discussion.  Time well spent.  

I napped and read and worked a little on Family History on this iPad.  I keep trying to use the track pad that isn’t there, but it’s working.

In the evening we went over to my dad’s to visit.  

I woke up earlier than I needed to this morning, but I was rewarded by a beautiful sunrise and seeing my friend the barn owl.  (I don’t strictly know if he is a friend, but owls eat mice, so I am feeling a fondness.)

Grateful Friday

 Yesterday Emma texted me, asking if I wanted to go to IKEA with her.  She wanted to look for throw pillows for her new (to her) couch.

Three of my favorite things:  Emma, IKEA and throw pillows!  I answered a quick yes and asked if we were getting meatballs.  She said if I wanted to.  A fourth favorite thing!

I'm grateful to live close to Emma.  I like to be in throw pillow collaboration proximity.  I went to Trader Joe's and Winco yesterday and I saw a lot of young mothers with young children.  Some of them were having a hard time and I remember those days.  I wanted to tell them that someday they may get to go throw pillow shopping together and all the grocery store tantrums will be a distant memory.

We met up at IKEA after she was done with work.  We wandered and had a disjointed conversation about Pride and Prejudice, which she is rereading (she said she's getting a lot more out of it than she did when she read it in 8th grade....) and reels I saw on Instagram.  We found a glass bottle and some cute napkins for me and pillows for her.  She found a console table she liked, but alas, it was out of stock.  

She said, sadly, looking at the display, "But they have one right here."

She is going to try to order it online.  I saw that the shelf I wanted to buy to replace the one that my student climbed on and broke in May was on sale.  I had wanted to go with Adam or Mark, but we were there and it was on sale.  Also, guess who is strong?  Emma.

We got it on the cart and I bought it.  I detoured at the little food court at the end and bought us each a strawberry ice cream cone.  They are so good.  They're more of a sorbet than ice cream, just nice and tart.  Emma and I were each holding our ice cream cone with one hand and pushing one handle of the cart with the other.  We got to Joan and had a conundrum because now what were we going to do?  We carefully put the ice cream cones into the cupholders and (mostly strong girl Emma) got the shelf into the back.  I complimented her on her strength.

She said, "I mostly used physics in my favor."

She deserved that strawberry ice cream cone.

I'm grateful Adam is home!  He is busier and travels more than either of us prefer, but I appreciate him and I appreciate how hard he works. (I'm grateful Mark went to the airport last night to get him, because he got home late.)

I'm grateful we get another celebrity sighting of Braeden and Anna and their cute babies.  We are going to Starr Valley today to be there for their stopover on their way back to CA.  I am staying until the 19th; Adam is going for a few days, then back to Nashville and then will rejoin me, along with Mark.  I love being home, but being there is a lot like being home and I'm looking forward to it.

I'm planning to spend time with my sisters and my dad, cross-stitch, paint, read, take walks and manifest zero mice in our house.

Underfoot

 I could show you the barely started cross-stitch or tell you what I'm learning about the dust bowl or 10 Mindframes for Visible Learning (another book I've been reading), but it occurs to me I don't have anything that interesting to blog about.  I know, I know, it has never stopped me in the past....

When we were on our trip, the floors in several buildings were beautiful and I started snapping pictures of them.  I just kept going and even took pictures outside.  I took a picture of any surface that looked interesting.  So that's my blogpost for the day:  what was underfoot in Chicago.

Summertime

 This summer is travel and hullabaloo coupled with quiet days and weeks.  This is a quiet week.  It's hot, in the 90s like July.  The AC is working hard and I appreciate it.   Adam is once again out of town.  He also works hard and I appreciate it.

Mark and I went to the Lindon Temple.  We ate perfect peaches from Costco with our lunch.  

I had a long and long overdue phone conversation with Marianne, who is back home.

I offered to take Mark to MOD for dinner although it would include a trip to Hobby Lobby.  Our boys think a trip to Hobby Lobby is a fate worse than death.  It is apparently worth it if you are going to MOD though, because Mark said yes.

Mark's friend Marek wondered if Mark wanted to hang out and Mark dropped me and Hobby Lobby like we were hot.

Emma Facetimed for advice about a couch a friend was giving away.  I said take it!  Free furniture is one of my love languages.

At Hobby Lobby I bought flag napkins for 66% off.  I bought paint because I am considering filling a new canvas. I bought embroidery floss because I am going to do a miniature of The Nighthawks. 

I don't need Mark to have a good time at Hobby Lobby.

I am reading a book about the Dust Bowl.

I ate another peach before going to bed for good measure.  They are so good!

Summertime and the living is easy.