Dresses and lots of wedding detailsA salamander in our sprinkler boxLive music by our friend Jesse; desserts, good food, and celebration.Up to the challengeOne handedDalton’s is for special occasions.The things you find when you help someone move
Not pictured:
My look of relief when I realized that “making” kids love the Pauline Epistles is not essential to being a good parent.
The happy bride in her dress.
Mark’s concerto performance.
The best apple crisp I have ever made.
The trophy Timothy earned by learning three concertos over three years.
The view of the Salt Lake valley from my car as I explored above the University of Utah while the boys had a class. The trees, dressed in their fall colors, and the sky changing to gray with an approaching winter storm offered the view I needed.
The cake our family made together that tasted so terrible we had to throw it away.
The letter from Daniel’s mission president assuring us all missionaries are safe in their apartments as there are riots going on.
A friend took me for a drive to see the Autumn leaves. Richard took me on a drive over the weekend to a different place but we did not remember to take pictures. This time with my friend, I also forgot my good camera, but took a few cell phone shots to remember what we saw.
We picked dried grasses, shrubs, and thistles to arrange in crockery in our homes. We explored a new trail on Guardsman Pass. We had ice cream for lunch in Heber Valley. Vermillion, coral, and maroon, burnt orange and tangerine, gold and lemon yellow leaves were like a colorful billowy quilt across the hills. Up close, I like the maples in coral and red, but the yellow Aspen leaves high above among the pines are glorious.
I don’t know why I don’t allow myself more opportunities like this. I can think of a small handful of places I have visited this year for my own enjoyment. This was one of them.
The great cherry tree in my neighbor’s backyard, the focal point of my view out my kitchen window, suffers. One half of its leaves and branches wither, just as its owner did before his passing a few weeks ago. One half is still healthy enough to show green leaves. I have found inspiration in this tree over the years to keep going, enjoy the blossoms and red cherries, and endure long winters. Now, it reminds me of loss, and of the burden of living with half.
As eternal beings who are the offspring of God, something within us cannot be comfortable with halves. The Lord knows this about this, and has a plan to make us whole as we step forward with our fractured halves… of understanding, a partnership, ability, vision, purpose, joy, testimony, or strength.
One way he makes us whole is through the sacrament. Last Sunday, I heard the word “souls” in the sacrament prayer. We come to the sacrament table as souls, two halves of a whole: spirit and body. I learned that the emblems, blessed and sanctified, were for for the benefit of both my body and spirit. I learned that God is involved in the tangibles of toothache just as much as the imperceptible needs of the spirit, homesick for heaven, but not ready to be there.
At age four I could mimic the life I wanted as I played wedding, house, and office. My closet was my kitchen; my neighbor, my groom. I dressed and held each doll differently, as any mother does. I kept lists of things to do, places to go, and rents paid.
At age fourteen, I took my first Zoology class and this steered me to science teaching. I was also voted “most likely to become a seminary teacher’ that year.
At age twenty-four, I had a Zoology degree, a husband, two babies, and a class of teenagers who showed up at my door for my seminary lesson at 6 am every school day.
At age thirty-four, our children were all with us, and I taught home school. I also played science teacher to dozens more at a community center.
At age forty-four, my heart stretches to embrace a child living across the world, and toward a soon-to-be new son holding my daughter’s hand. I teach mostly through encouragement, whether at home or at church. I know now that there are many ways to teach.
I had the audacity at age four to act out my future. There was no fear in my play, only hope and love. I need to take a lesson from my four-year-old self: if I can hope and love, it will be enough, because God is the one who planted these desires for family and influence inside of me. He is the one enabling me to accomplish His purposes. He knows which songs I love best, and has blessed me to be able to play them because he loves me.
My four-year-old self did not foresee an end to the little house life, nor that the children would challenge us deeply. Perhaps it’s that immature self inside of me that feels some defeat in reality. But this stretching and fatigue is not how the story will end. This is the part where it gets really interesting.
The younger Timothy and I spent a lot of time each year picking out the perfect Halloween costume. Now, we spend time searching out the perfect color of tie and suit; we sift for the right fit for a shirt, and I have learned many elements of his signature style. He is wearing Mark’s shoes in these pictures because at the last minute, something about them called to his sensibilities, “dancing shoes.” Timothy is all about the details.
A bearded man came for a visit this week and he and Richard took off to the hills to meet up with family and then some friends. The leaves are late in turning this year, so the views are mostly green. And by the looks of things, we have fed Rob beef every day this week.
A fixture is something you think is necessary and useful in a house or schedule, and once it’s there, it becomes part of the landscape. You hardly think of it.
I am challenging many “fixtures” in our home and lifestyle.
The computer desk in the kitchen for kids? Not needed. They now use the kitchen table and my laptop on which I control access.
Books we own but did not enjoy and will not read again: donating those.
Fabric from the past twenty-four years: down to one box.
Cards and letters: while so meaningful to me, the objects themselves don’t bring happiness. It’s relationships that do that. I am parting with many of these pieces of paper.
Collections: what can’t be displayed and enjoyed is not needed.
Papers showing our children’s home education: I have learned most of these are not important to them, and just a few treasures are important to me.
Craft supplies: many of these have not been used since Paige was a little girl. Most can be donated.
Ultimate Frisbee: Just one night a week now, in a city league, not the school team.
Piano lesson times: changed to fit MY schedule better. This has made a huge difference in my stress levels, and we found times to make everyone happy.
Working through these objects and activities is also making me work through my history, my dreams, and my insecurities. It’s no surprise that a home is the best place to find out what a person is really dealing with. Apparently, I have real issues letting go of reminders of my children when they were young. This is silly because while they were adorable and smart and fun back then, they are even more interesting now. I love the new depth possible in relationships with my adults and teens, and it is so exciting to watch them soar. I am also learning to stand up for my personal needs when it comes to scheduling the kids and taking on obligations. I cannot run the pace that others run. For my gifts to flourish, I require a lot of stillness and order, and a good, real, in person conversation with someone every single day.
