You know it’s a good time when your dinner party guests stay through breakfast the next morning… We love the Withams!
We spent a lot of time together in Arizona. In fact, the Google Maps image of our house included Melinda parking her van in front of our house. Ha!
One day this month, Richard took our boys to Fish Creek for a hike. They met up with Richard’s dad, brother, sister, and their families. I can’t narrate because I wasn’t there (my toe isn’t ready for 7 1/2 mile hikes), but the pictures tell a good story.
We tubed, we danced, we ate. We played, we talked, we rested. The cousins are growing up together and it’s pretty entertaining. Daniel didn’t have anyone his age to talk to, so he ferried cousins in the canoe and gave scooter pushes. Learning how to interact with people of all ages is an important skill you learn in a family. It was a nice Saturday retreat at the Weber.
It was a social week for us, with house guests in many corners, a science camp, an art camp, full evenings, and a family reunion. I ate a burrito from Freebirds with Richard and Nancy. Mark and I were stung by wasps and Richard and Daniel came to the rescue, vacuumed them up as they flew around their nest, and sealed up the entrance to their nest beneath our house.
My knowledge and interests have expanded over the years as I have waited in my van for kids at music lessons, school, church activities, and ballet. This week I read a lot at the University of Utah while I waited for Timothy at science camp. My van is almost the only place I could read this week. At this rate, I should finish my book by Christmas. Something I did for myself was attend the New Testament Commentary Conference at BYU on Friday afternoon to hear my friend Julie speak. I stole the photo of Julie from Facebook.
A favorite moment was with Paige and Richard when we took a drive to the Albion basin to see the wildflowers. At sunset, a bull moose emerged between the trees. Its long legs made its leisurely walk as fast as our truck as we moved along the road trying to get a blurry photo. That evening I saw flowers; Richard saw the slopes he normally visits on his skis. We wove two separate themes as we talked. “Oh, look at that shade of pink…and those purple flowers! I’m dying.” To which he replied, “I can’t believe I ski over all of those boulders!” spoken with an equal sense of wonder.
Another adventure we had was weeding and planting carrots at the Church garden. The missionary in charge of the carrots kept handing us carrots for breakfast. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, we rinsed them with our dirty hands in the sprinklers and munched as we weeded. “They taste like carrots,” Richard said. We spent two hours with our whole family, working and laughing together, so I was happy.
The kids enjoyed time with 20 cousins this week, bouncing, splashing, and running. Ours is a family with cousins in perpetual motion. In the kids’ cubbies at Spring Lake, we found notes that Grandma had encouraged the Sanchez cousins to write to one another. Here are a few:
Dear Paige, I love you.
Dear Mortiky, Hi, I’m David. I love you!
To Timothy [puppy drawing] signed DAVID
A top secret note from Hogwarts School, sealed for Mark
Dear Paige, I love you. You’re my budd
iey.Dear Daniel, I painted you a picture. You’re welcome. <3 Paige
We watched the most lingering sunset ever on Saturday night. As the late summer evening darkened, the Payson temple began to glow. Watching this heavenly Changing of the Guard in silence, the light source changing from sun to temple, fed my soul.
Are you in the mood to look at beach pictures?These triennial beach trips have become important markers for the progress of our family. Mark was a newborn and produced his first smile on the first beach trip we made with Richard’s family. Over the years, Paige towered over her brothers in height, until suddenly she didn’t. This is the last family vacation before she leaves home. When we go again, Daniel might be on a mission. The early beach trips with Mark kept me in the waves, holding him tightly because he loved the rush and pull of the water. This year he spent most of his beach time in the water, not needing my hand, and not caring how far the water carried him down the beach from the group. I watched him with squinty eyes from a distance, his jaunty walk and hop over the waves matching the imprint I have of him in my mind. Courage and skill have grown in all of the children. Interest in sand castle building has remained a constant, whether their legs are short or long, and whether they own a cell phone or not. I like constants like that. Some years we can find sand crabs. Timothy’s area of interest is always the wildlife. This year the treasure was sand dollars and on the final night, a tiny octopus in the tide pools. The boys are lucky to have cousins that match their ages and interests, and these cousins gathered for card games, baseball, amusement park rides, and electronics. Richard and his brothers always make me smile when they joke around together, which is almost all the time, except when they are working on a computer issue or shopping for something online. Then things get very, very serious indeed.
Walking on sand with a broken toe is a bad, bad idea, so I didn’t do a lot of that. I sat on the deck and looked out over the palm trees, stitched hair on a doll, and thought about Relief Society. On the days that I ventured to the beach, I spent the whole afternoon there to avoid having to walk back and forth over the sand. I’m normally pretty terrible at doing nothing, but sometimes it’s good to be still.
Hello, July! We’re off on adventures, every one of us. Richard and the boys’ adventures are the outdoorsy type. Paige’s adventures are of the summer job and preparing for college type. I broke my first bone and was called to be the Relief Society President last week. I found myself saying this over and over as we faced new things, “Here we go…” (kind of like what you say before you jump off the high dive or speak before a crowd) and so far the shock and adrenaline have been great helps. So has my family. Paige and Daniel cooked while I had to rest with my foot elevated. My sister Susan came and sat with me on the day I was so nervous that I was sick to my stomach.
Independence Day is a blur to me, but according to the camera, we had tank wars with my sister’s family. Instead of focusing on the fireworks, my mind dreaded that moment when my name would be read in church the next day and that title would be added to my name and all kinds of expectations and associations over which I have no control would descend on me. It felt heavy, and made me feel a little solemn. I know that many women don’t know me at church because I have been working with the Young Women since we moved here.
Despite the initial shock and nervousness, I feel like I am coming to the calling of Relief Society President with a full lamp. I feel prepared; not fully capable, but strong in my testimony and at peace with the life I have been given, including some challenges and heartache. I know I will have lots of help from many people and God’s grace will carry me. Also, I love serving in Relief Society. I love visiting people and connecting with others on a deep level. I love teaching. So the calling, while heavy, is also a gift; Heavenly Father has said, “Here you go,” and I am glad.
We held Girls Camp at my parents’ property in Spring Lake. I think the girls had a good experience. I know that I did.
When I was writing my grandmother’s history a few years ago, I learned about two of her family members who were killed in WWII. Each was an only son of immigrants from Sweden. I want to remember them today. It is sad to me that they have no descendants to think of them on Memorial Day.
Pete Johnson’s son, Noble Johnson was killed on March 17, 1945 under the Remagen Bridge in Germany. He was a welder and working underwater to repair a part of the bridge when he was killed. He left behind his parents and a sister named Helen.
The other young man was Cerie’s cousin Harvey Nelson, who came home looking just fine after being wounded in the War. He died suddenly on May 7, 1949 from a piece of shrapnel that dislodged in his body. He was the only child of Judy, the widow of Waldemar Nelson.
It’s sobering to think of their sacrifice and their families’ grief. I can’t visit their graves, but I can write about them and honor their gift.
Mark turns 9 years old today. We went to the Payson Temple open house this morning. It was a walking tour without a guide, but in one of the rooms, a volunteer reminded us to “look up.” The ceilings were glorious. Everything was special. It felt like home. I thought of my great-grandparents who had a farm one mile from the temple site. When I saw a painting of a woman with a basket of apples, I thought of my grandmothers who bottled fruit in this area during the Depression and beyond. I hope that Mark remembers some details of this magnificent temple and that it was part of his birthday celebration to be there. I hope that he and the kids remember to “look up” for approval, guidance, and perspective.
Memories of General Conference, my parents’ mission reunion, and the Easter egg hunt at Spring Lake add some sparkle to my Monday morning thoughts. Mark told me that he wanted to give Easter gifts this year. He and I taught the cousins how to make their own wash cloth bunnies, complete with googly eyes and pom pom noses and tails. Oh, those crazy cousins. Mark didn’t want to to part with them after building forts and bunnies, playing in the Secret Garden, reading the funnies in the library, and having all the soda he could drink.