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.

The little sister

 The summer I was fourteen, I went to youth conference at BYU.  Marianne had gone for two years previously and had regaled us with tales of youth conference.  One thing she loved was the huge dance they had in the Wilkinson Center ballroom.  Hundreds and hundreds of kids from all over packed into the ballroom.  Marianne had been asked to dance again and again.  It seemed thrilling to me.

Alas.

I stood awkwardly with a group of friends until they were gradually asked to dance, one by one.  I moved miserably to another group until they were gradually asked to dance, one by one.  It was humiliating.  I felt ugly in my glasses and braces and completely wrong with my inability to be even a little bit flirty.  I was a failure, I was sure.

My mom happened to be a chaperone for youth conference that year.  She watched me and could have chalked it up to no big deal.  How important is one youth conference dance in the scheme of things?  In reality, not that important.  The reason I remember the night so clearly, the reason it stands out from other occasions of social awkwardness, is because my mom didn't just assume I'd be fine.

She witnessed my mortification and asked me if I wanted to go get ice cream.  We left the dance and went to buy a scoop of the BYU Dairy's best.  Then, we walked around the Wilkinson Center and my mom didn't give me any platitudes about how this dance's success wouldn't make or break my life.  I don't remember her saying anything about it.  We just walked around and chatted and she showed me where she used to sit in the Wilkinson Center and the ways it had changed and the ways it had stayed the same.

She saw me.  I was good enough.  

A few years later, I was in Mr. Swabb's history/government classroom.  At our tiny school, he had taught Marianne in the same class.  Marianne, who would go on to get a degree in teaching speech and debate, loved sparring with Mr. Swabb.  I think he loved it too.  

He didn't love that I was quiet.  I had no beef with anything he said, I just drew flowers in the margins of my dutifully taken notes.  At parent teacher conferences, Mr. Swabb told my mom that he wished I were more like Marianne.

My mom said, "We already have a Marianne.  We want Thelma to be like Thelma."

My mom told me about the conversation when she got home.  She knew full well that everyone at our school compared me to my successful older sister, including me.

She wanted me to know that she didn't.

She saw me.  I was good enough.

Today is my mother's birthday.  I will never forget how she made me feel.  I will never forget that she wanted Thelma to be Thelma.  I will never forget that she saw me.

Grateful Friday

 The Buddy Bench on the playground is for a kid to sit on if they don't have anyone to play with.  Then, hopefully, some kind kid will notice and invite them to play.  Sometimes when I have recess duty I sit on the Buddy Bench.  It always invites a conversation, usually with the odd duck children that don't have a lot of friends. 

Yesterday a boy sat by me. This followed:

Me:  How are you doing today?

Boy:  I am great!  I am going to play Fortnite with my brother tonight.

Me:  That sounds fun.  How old is your brother?

Boy: 23

Me:  I have a son who is 23.

Boy (looking at me with wonder and skepticism in equal measure): What video games does he play?

Me:  I am not really into video games.  I don't know the names.  I know he does like video games though.

Boy: What's his name?

Me: Mark

Boy:  Well, my brother is named...John...so I don't think they're the same person.

Did he think they were the same person?!?

Me: No, I don't think they are the same person.

Boy: Wait, did your son serve in the army?

Me: No.

Boy:  Well my brother did.  I don't think they're the same person.

He finally trotted away to go find something else to do.  I thought about my mom, since I have been thinking about her all the time.

It occurred to me that if my mom was at recess duty, she would always find the odd ducks and collect them around her and be their buddy.  My mom would hold court on the Buddy Bench.

If every day I try to do what she would do, I think I will be pointed in the right direction.

I'm grateful for her example.

Family time

 We were supposed to have a small family reunion on Saturday but it was canceled.  The coronavirus just keeps on ruining stuff.

I still wanted to go to Nevada but I got freaked out by (you guessed it) the coronavirus and I was super busy Saturday getting ready for school to start and also trying to be a contributing member of my family at home.

It's a lot.

We joined a zoom meeting on Saturday with most of my siblings.  We played a trivia game about Tabor and then they presented my parents with the 50th anniversary present we have been working on for years.

A quilt.

There are blocks that represent different events in their life and a quilt block representing each of their children's family.  It was a group effort but my sisters deserve most of the credit because they quilted it.  Both parents cried so, you know, mission accomplished.

After the call, Adam saw my sad face and said, "We can drive there tomorrow."

We didn't have church yesterday and I wasn't planning on doing any school prep or laundry so we made a plan.  Mark ended up staying home with bad allergies so it was just Adam and me, practicing being empty nesters.

(We'll be good at being empty nesters.  We like hanging out together.)

We had lunch with my parents (at separate tables) then my sisters and most their kids came over and we sat distanced apart and visited.  There were no hugs or closeness at all and I don't love that.

But I did love a quick trip to see my dear parents and some of my family.

Fifty years of marriage is a long time, but so is eternity.  I'm glad I'll be with them that long.

Grateful Friday

We are all exhausted at school.  We keep saying to each other, "And school hasn't even started yet...."

The school nurse gave a presentation yesterday and stressed us all out.  A lot.

Every day I get good ideas from my fellow teachers about dealing with masks and face shields.  We are decorating our rooms with splashes of color and cheer but there is a heaviness too as we are physically and mentally hampered by a virus I wish I'd never heard of.

I'm grateful for our principal.  We had our first day of professional development meetings yesterday.  He wore casual clothes and said that after we were done, he was ready to help in our classrooms.  He would lift or load or hang up anything we asked.

He also said, "Summer school was our guinea pig and it worked!  Learning happened.  We can do this!"

I will love when the kids arrive.  They will save us from our stressed-about-the-virus-angst.  (Or at least they will distract us from it a bit.)

***

I'm grateful for my family.  Mark checks me like a barometer when I get home from school and administers hugs as needed.  Adam sustains me when I am spent.  Emma and Braeden and Anna are a witty text away.

I'm grateful for my parents.  They are a dear and loved light in my life.  When I feel gratitude for my siblings (and I do--we're a hard headed opinionated lot but we love each other), I know that credit for the gift of brothers and sisters goes to my parents.

It is Tabor's birthday today.  He's 40 which seems impossible in a little brother who I remember holding the day he came home from the hospital.  Welcome to your 40s.  I hope you like Advil.

We were placed in families for a reason.

Grateful Friday

Next week is a big week for anniversaries.

Adam and I will have been married 25 years.

Braeden and Anna will have been married 1 year.

My parents will have been married 50 years.

I guess early August is just a good time to get married.

I'm grateful for Braeden and Anna's marriage.  Anna is sort of like Mary Poppins--practically perfect in every way.  She has a relationship with everyone in our family and she is kind and loving and good.  I love how much Braeden loves her and the ways she has made his life better.  He said recently that this past year has been the best year of his life.

What more could I ask for?

I'm grateful for my parents' marriage.  They have always been examples to me in lots of ways like parents are.  I'm grateful for their example of a loving marriage.  I've seen them work together through thick and thin.  I've seen them support each other and correct each other and love each other. The created a bedrock of faith and stability that I grew up in.

What more could I ask for?

I'm grateful for my marriage.  Twenty-five years with someone who makes you laugh, works hard, supports your dreams and throws away the leftovers in the fridge when you are afraid to open them is a recipe for happiness.  I can't imagine a better husband for myself and I'm grateful he's mine.  Adam asked if I wanted to go away somewhere for our anniversary.  I'm happy just going grocery shopping together.  As long as I'm with him, I know I'll have a good time.

What more could I ask for?

Such a lovely time

I didn't take one picture!  Luckily people I love and who love me enough to let me steal their pictures did take pictures.

We had a wonderful weekend in Nevada.

Friday we went to Hyrum's graduation.  It was one of those unique Covid 19 kinds of graduations.  Desi was describing it to her roommate and her roommate was shocked that 1) everyone in the class had a truck and 2) they would then all fit on the football field.

It's Wells, Nevada so of course they all had trucks and I think the baby boomers were the only ones who had classes bigger than twenty something.

The graduates' parents were in the trucks and the seniors were in the truck beds.  They drove around the track and stopped off at a platform to be handed a diploma.  Then they parked on the football field. We stood with the Hyrum fan club outside the fence and I can tell you we were an effective cheering section.

Hyrum's sisters were responsible for decorating the truck 

The handsome graduate!  We are super excited to have him at BYU.  Emma made him a membership card to the Davis Dining Club.  It was pretty fancy.

There was a parade through town after the graduation and the best part of that was Olivia throwing smarties candy at the graduates and missing about 3/4 of the time.

The plan had been to go to a restaurant and celebrate after but I had this terrible allergy attack and we were all pretty tired so we went to Elko to our hotel room and spent a really horrible night.  Sometimes we struggle in hotels.  Mark had the best night and he slept on the sofa bed.

Saturday we went to visit with my parents.  We tried our best to keep our distance.  It was hard to remember to stay away from my mom.  I kept ending up right next to her and would back away.  My mom has been going through bins of pictures and mementos and she gave me some things including some silhouette drawings from when I was in primary, a 16 x 20 inch photo of me as a bald smiley baby and my tithing notebook.  When we were little we had these little spiral tithing notebooks to keep track of how much we owed.  It delights me.  I loved seeing the entries for $.10 here and $.07 there.  I told my dad that I demanded higher wages when I saw that he'd paid me $.70 for hauling wood.  He said he doubted I was worth that much.  I did have a record of my mom paying me $5 for finding some medicine so she was clearly the better one to work for.

In the afternoon we went to Olivia's for a potato salad making party.  I think I've made potato salad in my own home maybe once and I've made it with my mom and sisters many many times.  I love the process of making it.  And with our daughters helping it was speedy quick.  My mom made the dressing and I remembered when I was a little girl and my great grandma Jaynes was the one who made the dressing.  There's no measuring involved.  The matriarchs just intuitively know.

Later, my sisters and Adam and Robert and some of our kids were sitting around talking and it got a little heated as we turned to politics and the state of things.  Our kids were uncomfortable but my sisters and I have been arguing for four decades so we were fine.

At least no one pulled anyone's hair.

Earlier I had had a similarly intense conversation with my parents and I'd cried (because I'd started talking about my students).

I was talking about it with our kids later and I said that I was glad that I'd been raised in a family where we could disagree and express ourselves.  That is a blessing.

That evening we had a dinner to celebrate Hyrum.  Braeden and Anna came in time for those festivities and I loved having them there as well.  Marianne had my parents get their food first.  Then she had the "lucky men who were married to Dahl women" go next.  Robert and Edgar and Adam are a happy (and I should add lucky) trio.  They enjoy being around each other.  I ate dinner with them.  When I sat down, Adam and Robert were talking about the length they liked to mow their lawns.  I almost rethought my decision to join them, but the conversation shifted and I'm glad I stayed.  We stayed into the evening, visiting and enjoying being together.

Sunday was an even better day.  It was the day that Omar was baptized.  He was going to be baptized in Boulder Creek which was a fabulous idea and then the weather didn't agree.

It was cold.  So unseasonably cold.  It had been in the upper 80s on Friday and the high was in the 40s on Sunday.

It was snowing a little that morning and Olivia and her family prayed that it would be sunny for the baptism.

Tabor and Katie, who have moved to Lund, Nevada arrived and we were a happy group.  We gathered in Olivia and Edgar's living room with Robert presiding and my mom on the piano and Marianne leading the singing.  It did not take long until I was in tears.  It was just so nice to all be together and I felt the Spirit strongly as we sang together and some of those kids can sing!

Mark and Hyrum blessed the sacrament and Morgan and Marcos passed it.  There was a wonderful feeling in the room and I felt the purest kind of joy.

Lili gave a sweet talk on baptism and then Olivia and her kids sang a song.  Wow, I'm proud of my sisters.  They are such terrific mothers and women and I'm sorry I used to pull their hair (but they sort of deserved it).

I told Braeden I wanted him to be close and be ready during the baptism.  Boulder was running pretty high and Omar is just a little guy.  Clarissa's husband, Timeon is from Kiribati and since he grew up on an island, he basically grew up in the water.  Clarissa said he would be ready too.  And he was.  He wore a sulu and flip flops and white shirt and tie.  Kiribati is on the equator so you would think Timeon would be too cold for the high desert melted snow rushing past but as all his admiring cousins-in-law decided, he is a beast.

Also, the wind stopped and the sun started shining.

Brave Ruben baptized his little brother.  You can see Timeon downstream behind the bushes being a baptism lifeguard.  It was wonderful and very memorable.  The minute Omar came out of the water, Olivia scooped him up in a blanket and carried him up to Edgar who took him to their warm and waiting car. Ruben wrapped up in a towel and followed and once Edgar was driving away, it started snowing again.

So the takeaway is if you really need something, have the Cobians pray for it.  They got their sunshine.

Here's my sunshine:

Emma snapped this picture of my parents walking to the baptism.  I love it.  The winter parkas look out of place on a June day but I promise they weren't.

We all went back to Olivia's for Omar's confirmation and then a dinner.  Edgar cooked hot dogs and hamburgers outside in the falling snow and Adam joined him in solidarity (and because he likes hanging out with Edgar).

These cousins recreated a picture.  Here is the original:

Ruben, Liliana, Mark and Hyrum--they were all practically doing the splits on that huge horse.

Here they are now (different horse):

Cuties.

The snow kept coming and we decided we should probably hit the road.  Not too far on the other side of Wells, the snow stopped though.

It was 20 degrees warmer in Pleasant Grove than it had been in Starr Valley, but still cold.  Adam wondered if we should turn on our heat.  I said that on principle, we can not turn the heat on in June.

I'm very grateful we got to spend the weekend with our family.  It's been a long time since we've been together and I also loved worshiping with them and being together to celebrate big milestones in their lives.

Families are where it's at.

Grateful Friday

I am grateful for motherhood and mothers.

My mom is amazing.  She is a force for good in the world.  She stares down trouble with faith and optimism and she has way more confidence in her children than we probably deserve.  She is constantly looking for ways to serve and help her children and grandchildren and she adopts people into her realm of care that need her as well. I remember visiting people with her when I was growing up.  Again and again we visited a widower who was lonely, a woman in poor health.  My mom would bring her homemade bread or rolls and cheer.  I remember waiting in the car while she delivered food to a newly widowed mother.  Her brand of goodness is imprinted on my mind of what a righteous woman is.  It's hard to live up to, but I appreciate the example.

She is an irreplaceable role model for me and I'll always be grateful to her.

There are many mothers I appreciate though.

I'm grateful to Geri for raising a fantastic son.  I'm grateful for the grandmother she is to our children.  They love her and feel loved by her.  She plans for fun and it happens.

I'm grateful for our grandmothers and our grandmothers' mothers and all the strong women we are descended from who made choices that brought me to be born in a land of opportunity and happiness.

I'm grateful to my sisters.  We are in the trenches of motherhood together and talking to them about all the things is the ultimate judgement free zone where I get empathy and good ideas and reality checks.

I'm grateful to my friends who have been shining examples of motherhood.

I'm grateful for the women who have mothered our children:  the primary teachers and seminary teachers and YW leaders and camp leaders.  I'm grateful to the school teachers (drama teachers! Emma's French teacher!) who have wrapped our children in a loving safe place where they can learn and be themselves and have fun.

I'm grateful for the women that mothered Braeden on his mission.  I can't think about Stella and Rebecca who stayed with Braeden in the hospital while he was so far away without tears filling my eyes.

I'm grateful for Amy, Anna's stellar mother.  She raised a fabulous daughter who blesses our family.

Finally, I'm grateful I get to be a mother.  It's not easy and sometimes it feels like the worst.  Mostly though, it feels like the gift that it is.

May 2010

Even after 47 years

Yesterday afternoon I asked Mark to empty the dishwasher and he said he had to do his accounting class.  I commandeered the microphone and told my mom that I wanted her to know that Mark needed to empty the dishwasher but he said he couldn't because of accounting so I was going to do it myself at great personal sacrifice.

My mom said she appreciated me letting Mark do his accounting class.

As I was emptying the dishwasher I remembered a story my roommate Jamee told me one time about her teenage brother on Thanksgiving.  Jamee's mom had been cooking all day (and probably the preceding days as well). She asked Jamee's brother to take the garbage out and he sighed deeply and said that it was his vacation and he was "just trying to relax."

So good news moms everywhere.  Your kids are still bratty when they are 47 years old.

(And I really do appreciate my mom teaching Mark accounting.)

Grateful Friday

I am glad for many things.

I'm grateful for my warm house and sturdy car and lack of traffic/recess duty.

Winter has us in its grip.  I am protected from the worst of it and I appreciate that.  We had both recesses inside yesterday which is kind of the worst, but I'm also glad to keep the kiddos warm and safe.  (I just wish we only had inside recess on days we have PE.  Can that be a new rule?)

I'm grateful for modern medicine.

Wow.  Mark was super sick and he took some antibiotics and improved dramatically.  I'm also grateful for doctors who listen to me when the rapid strep test comes back negative but I say, "I think he has strep."

Because my kids have had strep one or twelve times.

I'm grateful I've been able to stay healthy despite spending my days with coughing sniffling children.

I credit Wellness Formula which is this supplement I take and it wards off illness.  I would be in a multilevel marketing scheme for this stuff.  (Not really.  I will never have a money making opportunity for you.)

I don't know if it is the placebo effect or what and I don't really care, because I'm here for it.

I'm grateful for my students that laugh at my dumb jokes, hug me, doggedly try to pass off their multiplication facts, demand answers when they don't understand, and remind me to send someone for the lunch crate.  (Every day.  I seriously forget every day.)

I'm grateful for one sweet girl who drew Lehi's vision when I had them draw a picture to illustrate our vocabulary word, realized.  These kids are the best.  The best.

I'm grateful we picked Pleasant Grove High School.  We mostly picked it for the performing arts and we weren't wrong.

Les Miserables knocked my socks off.   It was just well done.  Opening night was thrilling and I was for sure wiping my tears when the lights came up but I think most of the audience was also wiping their tears so I was not alone.

When Mark was up on the top of the barricade fighting for the revolution, I kept thinking he should get down and hide behind it.  Another boy was down there handing up rifles.  Why didn't Mark get down and do that?

It didn't matter that my brain 100% knew it was a play.  My motherly instincts wanted him to stop being foolhardy.

I'm grateful for the support of family for Mark.  Last night my parents came to the show, tonight Olivia's family and our college kids are coming.  Monday, Marianne and Carolina and Desi are coming and next week Geri will be here.  The wreath of love that surrounds Mark via his family matters to him and to me.

I fumbled for my phone and was too slow so I only got this one picture. If you're only going to get one picture, one of the two Marks isn't bad.

He hasn't been allowed to cut his hair.  Adam said we'll cut it after the last show.  I said I don't have the upper body strength for that.  That kid has a lot of hair.

Finally, I'm grateful Les Mis has good music.  Because that stuff is in my brain and I still have 5 shows to go.

Good weekend: Saturday

Two nice things happened Saturday.

1) Adam and Mark and I had brunch with Marianne and Carolina.

I looked forward to it all week.  Marianne and I whined about how hungry we were while we waited for the food to come.  Sometimes I look at her and see a mirror.  Our temperaments are very similar.  She's a taller, more accomplished mirror, but she's a mirror.  We chatted long about all the things.  We enjoyed our two youngest children.   She gave me the good suggestion to send Robert a Marco Polo with my questions about behavior in my classroom.  Robert is a behavior specialist and I could send him hours of me asking for advice, but I just started with one student.

(And Robert sent me a Marco Polo back with lots of good advice.)

2) We had dinner with my parents and Braeden and Anna.

My parents came to watch Mark's play which meant a lot to him.  We enjoyed eating together beforehand and catching up a bit.  I warned my parents before the show that it was hard to understand and as many times as I'd seen it, I still didn't really understand all of it.

I just went for the redhead.

In the end, who cares about a lot of things that don't make sense.  What matters is that we're there for each other.

Grateful Friday

What to choose?

There are a lot of things I could write about, but I'll pick siblings.  I'm grateful for mine.  They provide me scaffolding that keeps me up at times.

Looking over some pictures that friends have sent me, I've been delighted by these sibling pictures:

These sweet kids will grow and change and move hither and yon.  They will have hard things happen and celebrate some victories.

I hope they always rely on each other.

Love sweet love

Saturday I attended a family bridal shower for Anna.  It was at her aunt Steph's house.  Braeden had told me repeatedly that I would love Aunt Steph.

When I arrived and I introduced myself to her, she said, "I thought you were going to say you were Braeden's sister, not his mom!"  So yes.  I immediately loved her.

(I don't look too young to be Braeden's mom, but I don't complain if anyone ever says that.)

I got to meet Anna's aunts and grandma and a few cousins.  They are all good people and it feels so comfortable to be around each other.  My mom, grandma, Aunt Launa, Marianne, Olivia and Melanee all came which made me happy.  Weddings are all about love.  There's love between the bride and groom of course, but people that love them also show up and give gifts and love and help celebrate and it's wonderful.

Anna got some very nice gifts and their little nest will be well feathered.  Amy, Anna's mom, made her a beautiful denim picnic blanket.  Growing up, Anna's family always had a denim picnic blanket in their car which Amy's mom had made for her.  The sentimental gift made Anna cry and then that made me cry because I am an empathetic crier who cries when people I love cry.

So I'm a lot of fun....

My mom made Anna a quilt top.  She realized (wisely) that she didn't have the time to make 24 quilts for her grandchildren so she is making them each a quilt top when they get married and they can quilt it however they choose.

The quilt is made of remnants of the wedding quilts that my mom made for each of her children's weddings.  I caught my mom mid expression here, but I'm still posting the picture because I love those two women and that quilt.

My mom's health made it a difficult labor of love to complete and it means a lot to me that she made the beautiful quilt.

After the shower, I had the chance to meet Mark, Anna's dad.  I stood around chatting with Mark and Amy and I realized how likable and easy they are to talk to.  If we were neighbors, we would be friends.  No wonder we love Anna so much!

I gave Anna a ride back to Provo.  We had a great conversation about trials and unanswered prayers and miracles and you know, just idle chit chat like that.  I helped her move the gifts into their apartment which is NEXT DOOR to the apartment where we lived when Braeden was born.  It was bizarre to be back there.  I used to sit right outside those doors with baby Braeden waiting for Adam to come home from work.  What if I'd known that in 22 years he would be living there with his bride?!?

Maybe I already mentioned this.  That apartment we lived in, apartment 8?  We bought the contract from Amy and Mark.  We were in the same ward briefly.  They look vaguely familiar to me but we don't really remember each other.

Mark (Carlson) said we need to find out who lived in the apartment after Adam and I moved out because it is Anna's sister Natalie's destiny to marry their son.

The next two weeks are going to be a wonderful chaotic whirlwind.  I'm going to try to savor every moment and enjoy all the celebrating.

Because the perfect pairing of these two that I love is worth celebrating.

A delightful day

I loved being at the temple with my family.  Unfortunately Katie and Melanee were sick and Adam and Edgar were working, but the rest of us were there.

Olivia, Liberty--the only endowed grandchild not at work, Ammon, Robert, Marianne, my parents, Enoch and Jennifer, me, Tabor

Here's the immediate family:

I was wearing heels!

It took a few tries to get the pictures taken.  The first guy we asked had his thumb in the shot.

Our parents treated us all to Black Bear Diner afterward--including those who had been too young for the temple and Katie who had slept on our bed during the temple trip.

I rehashed more wedding plans with my mom and sisters.  I said that my stress was rising.  My dad kept telling me that I should get a weight for the bottom of my dress.

"What!?!"

He said, "Well, if your dress is rising you need to weigh it down.  You need to be modest."  Then he grinned.

Maybe people like him are why my stress is rising....

At the reunion, our aunts had a basket of snapshots and Marianne took a picture of this gem.

Adam sees pictures of this and asks, "Did you cheeks need glasses?"  Maybe.

Marianne and Olivia decided we should recreate it.  I guess my dad was talking to someone else because when Ammon sat on his lap, he was startled. "What are you doing?!?"

Here we are trying to get into character--Enoch is looking at the photo for inspiration.

Marianne and Olivia and I are all holding our hands up for reasons only known to genetics.

Tabor said he couldn't do it without his superman pajamas.  I wore my sunglasses, the closest I could come to my becoming 80s photogray glasses.

I like being around these people.

Circles

I love Memorial Day.  I know it is designed to be a day to honor soldiers that died in battle and I do honor and appreciate them.

I also like my family's take on the holiday.  We go to cemeteries.  Plural.  Because our family tree is rooted in the Salt Lake Valley, specifically in Murray/West Jordan/Sandy/Crescent.

I love how connected I feel.  I love seeing the names in stone, the names of a few people I knew but mostly I knew of.  They're where I came from.  They the builders of the nation.

That circle tightens a little as we inevitably meet up with some of my mom's cousins at the different cemeteries.  At the Sandy Cemetery, my mom's cousin was there with some family and they were clearing off the grass and cleaning the headstones neighboring where my great grandparents and great-great grandparents are buried.

He said, "I got tired of looking at them."

Olivia was impressed with what great neighbors they were.

We were all there honoring the same ancestors and that feels nice.

There are my grandma's (who is 92!) descendants who were there.  It's just a small portion of the family but it makes me happy all the same.

In a tighter circle, I see some of my aunts and uncles.  We hug and catch up a little and joke about little things.  I see some cousins.  We hug and catch up, compare notes on our children's ages, find out "where are you living now?"

I love the tighter circle of seeing my siblings and their kids.

Here Marianne and I are chatting with Morgan.   That's Ammon in the background.

Sisters that stand together (in the same pose) stay together.

I needed the long hugs my sisters gave me.  And the ones from my parents.  There's my dad in the picture above.

Here's my mom with some of the older cousins:

Carolina, Desi, my mom, Emma, Braeden, Liberty, Mark, Lili and Hyrum in the front.

I loved the way the cousins enjoyed each other.  These big ones stood around and talked and laughed and younger ones took off on a series of adventures.

Eventually we headed back home.  My tightest circle.  I loved hearing the kids delight in each other's company.  I looked over at Adam and appreciated him.  He happily spends the day visiting the graves of people he's never met.

That's quality.

Mother's Day

I am looking forward to a nice day with my family.  I've already had two sons wish me happy Mother's Day.  Emma is excited to give me the gift she has for me.  Mark wondered, "What time are gifts?" and Braeden already gifted me with a fragrant and lovely lily plant.

I feel loved.

Today I want to honor mothers.  Particularly my mother.  She is amazing and every single person who knows her knows that.  She is a champion of good causes, iron tough and determined.  I love her faith and optimism and dogged desire to serve and better the lives of her children and grandchildren.  She denies every attempt I make at self doubt.  A while ago (I can't even remember the show), I saw some mother on TV say to her son, "No one who spent nine months inside of me is good, they're great."

I think my mom feels that way.  It's comforting and sustaining to have someone with so much grit believe whole heartedly in you.

I also want to honor Geri.  She is a pillar of strength to her family.  For as long as I have known her, her home has been a place of beauty and refuge.  She works hard and plays hard and loves her children and grandchildren in a selfless and accepting way.  I'm grateful to be part of her family.

I'm also thinking about my sisters who are in the mothering trenches with me.  Since our kids are around the same ages, it feels like we're shoulder to shoulder, working toward the same goal.

I honor mothers without children.  Some of the teachers at the school where I work are unmarried and don't have children.  But they are mothers.  There are stashes of snacks for hungry kids, there are hugs and high fives and encouragement and tough love administered in high doses.  There is forgiveness and let's try again and you can do it delivered on the daily.

I honor mothers whose children break their hearts.  There is nothing easy about mothering.  It's hard physical work and hard mental work and hard emotional work.  Hyperbole on Mother's Day feels a little uncomfortable when what you're really trying to do is survive.

Last night Adam and I were grocery shopping and the store was filled with fathers and kids.  They were filling carts with things they needed to show the moms they loved them.

It all matters.

The homemade cards, the clumsily wrapped presents, the messes that will happen in kitchens as kids try their hand at cooking for their mothers.

It matters.  These people know what my heartbeat sounds like on the inside.

My mom and me

My mom and I both like to read.  We both like the same kinds of books.  We both like to quilt.  (Although I only like the hand quilting part--I'm abysmal at the piecing part.)  We both loved homeschooling our children. (I wasn't homeschooled; some of my siblings were.) We both like to take walks and we both approach things in a methodical manner.  We both wish I'd practiced the piano more when I was younger.

Unfortunately, I'm not enough like my mom though.

Growing up, sometimes my mom would find a mistake that some company or bank had made.  She'd get on the phone and get it cleared up.  She'd say to me, "I spend half my life correcting other peoples' accounting mistakes."

(My mom and I both like to exaggerate when we're trying to make a point.)

Sadly, I spend half my life correcting my own accounting mistakes.  My mom is a CPA. (Is that even the correct vernacular?  Does she have a CPA or is she a CPA?  That shows you how much I don't know about accounting.)

I am not.

If I were an accountant I would have been fired a long time ago.

Yesterday, when I was paying bills, I realized I had made a mistake.  I spent 2 hours and 15 minutes on the phone with various people.  I have a new best friend, Kevin, who is an employee at my bank.  He was SUPER helpful and even participated in a 3 way call with me.  With Kevin on the line too, I finally, finally was able to get results.

(Kevin for president!)

I was demoralized after the entire experience.  I was telling Mark my woeful tale and he said, "It's OK.  Everybody makes mistakes."

I went on to tell him all the other boneheaded accounting related mistakes I've made.

He said, "Maybe you should talk to your mom for lessons."

I don't know.  Perhaps my problem is beyond something that you can teach.  I'm just grateful there are Kevins in the world to save the day.

Grateful Thursday

Because I'm not only grateful on Friday.

Yesterday was kind of a wild ride.  My mom's surgery was delayed by hours.  That was frustrating.  The good news is that I was able to have a nice visit with my parents all day.  We were buoyed by texts and silly memes and gifs from my siblings and kids.  Together was a nice way to spend the day (except for the fact that we were in a hospital and my mom was hooked up to IV and prepped for surgery).

Weeks ago, I mistakenly told my mom we had a stake youth fireside last night.  I wished I hadn't told her.  Because my parents were worried all day I was going to miss it.  They kept telling me to go.  Go now, before the traffic gets too bad.

I kept telling them they weren't the boss of me.

After they took my mom to surgery (finally!) my dad was adamant I leave.  I was extremely torn.  I did want to go to the fireside but I didn't want to leave him but I also didn't want to make him feel bad by me staying.

Ugh.

I got in and out of my car a few times in indecision, but I ended up heading back to PG.  I passed a burning inferno that used to be a car at the point of the mountain.  So that was exciting.

The fireside was wonderful and after it, I got back on my phone.  Ammon had filled my place after work and parent teacher conferences for his kids and I was grateful.

The thing that made me most grateful?  My mom went through the surgery with flying colors.  I know she has a recovery ahead of her but this hurdle is over.  I'm so grateful for that.  I'm grateful for my good parents and their steady faith.  I'm grateful for the wonderful unifying feeling of all of us praying together (and sending texts).  It felt like we went through yesterday together and that helped.

I didn't realize how much tension I had been holding in my body all day.  After I got the texts that all was well, I got really shaky and Adam said I was pacing around and needed to sit down.

He said, "It's like you're coming off of something."

I said, "I am.  Adrenaline."

My mom

The last thing my mom wants is extra attention and especially internet attention, but here I go anyway.

My mom is having surgery today.  I feel a mix of worry about her and trust in the Lord that all will be well and wishing it was over already.

I'm going to the hospital to spend the day with my parents and I felt a little dreary after leaving school because I had to explain to everyone why I would be gone and I'd rather just not.

Started by Marianne, all my family is on the Marco Polo bandwagon except me.  I tried but lacked the interest or capacity to figure it out.  The last thing I want to do is send a video of myself and I'd rather read a text than watch a video I guess.  Still, that's the way these people are communicating so I renewed my efforts last night.

I had over 90 videos waiting for me (full disclosure:  I did not watch them all).

I watched the latest one from my mom.  She talked about how much she appreciated everyone's love and concern and in her assured and assuring way, she proclaimed her faith and trust and optimism and just made me feel better like she's been doing for 45+ years.

I'm grateful for that lady!

Grateful Friday

Things I'm grateful for today:

Empty nest + Adam

We miss Mark and it seems like he's gone for an awfully long time.  His super communicative texts are comforting though:

Mark would have saved a lot of money during telegram days when you had to pay according to how many words.

Adam and I have been muddling along without him though.  We turned the heat off before we both left for work.  Later in the evening we realized we hadn't turned it back on.  "Should we?"  We both just shrugged.

So picture us in our golden years in a cold house because we can't be bothered.

Last night we wrapped Christmas presents because no one was around and we could spread out on the table and counter.

We even turned on Christmas music for the occasion.

(Maybe the lack of heat helped create a certain wintry holiday atmosphere.)

My parents

They are awesome.  I'm grateful for their goodness and steady faith and courage.  They've always been an anchor in my life and those two together feels like everything is going to be right in the world.

Being around kids

A kindergartner with stick straight hair told me I had tangled hair.  I said, "I know; it's curly.  That's just how it is."

She said, "You should brush it."

(I hope when that little girl is a teenager her mother has a thick skin.)

**

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A second grader told me about something he did back when he "was a child."

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I was helping a little girl, who is a Thelma the Unicorn aficionado, with math.  She was reluctant to work on her math and said, "I don't even know how you can do math, Thelma the Unicorn.  You live in a field."

I said, "It's because I'm a unicorn."

**

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Multiple grades are working on writing opinion pieces and a lot of the kids have written about how we should have hot dogs instead of turkey for Thanksgiving.  The number one reason most of them site is that turkeys are animals and you have to kill them so you should have hot dogs instead.

I don't want to be the one to tell them what hot dogs are made of.  (I don't really want to know myself what hot dogs are made of.)

**

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Mark's doppelgänger has been asking me to bring my phone to recess.  I kept forgetting and then yesterday I happened to have it in my coat pocket.  He demanded I hand it to him.

Ha! No.

He wanted me to play Sonic Mania Invincibility music for him.  I googled it.  It was the kind of techno annoying music that Mark plays (not surprisingly--I'm telling you, they are the same kid) that prompts me to change the radio.  His doppelgänger stood next to me with a huge grin on his face and listened to the music.  He wrapped his arms around my arm and blissfully leaned his head against me.

Then later he threw a paper airplane and it hit me right on the nose.

(I didn't want you to think it was always sunshine and roses.)