We had a nice visit from some friends from Sahuarita, Arizona. They’ve all grown so much, but the friendships still feel comfortable. It was a fun night. It’s a sacrifice to take time to visit friends when people are on a trip to visit family. It meant a lot to us.
We stopped by at dusk last night to see the progress on my parents’ cabin demolition. It felt a little surreal to walk among the piles of rubble, and looked something like the pictures you see after a tornado.
We took my dad to dinner to celebrate the demolition, an early birthday for Richard, and a reading goal completed by the little boys. My mom was out of town to help take care of my grandpa who had surgery for cancer today. My day has been largely devoted to hopeful waiting for news. So far so good.
A couple of weekends ago Richard and the big boys had a blowout winter sport extravaganza. I stayed warm and enjoyed a visit with my sisters.
This post looks short, but it took an hour to get these photos to post. I wrote and deleted a long post while I waited. You’re welcome. Now go have a great weekend.
My brother-in-law Richard tells me that in Utah, the holiday is called Washington and Lincoln Day. Well, we celebrated it by climbing rocks.
Did you notice that Sparky is smiling in that one?
Well, that’s all for today. I need to get back to sorting papers, magazines, and toys from all of the baskets on our shelves. So far I have discovered that we have missed several non-required school assignments, allowed numerous gift certificates to expire, and that I need to stop hoarding personal letters. I also need to part with about 15 years of Taste of Home magazines. I just know that if I get rid of them, I am sure to be called to the Relief Society and have to plan meals for masses of people again and I will need those “recipes for feeding a crowd”. Come to think of it, perhaps it’s good insurance to keep them around.
We decided to take the kids to Snow Canyon on Saturday. Richard’s parents, his brother Russ and his family, and his sister Shari and two of her sons, and Rebecca’s daughter Susannah came with us. We had a great time walking beside the red sandstone cliffs. The cousins were very happy together. We brought a picnic lunch of fried chicken, rolls, and fruit which we ate ravenously after our adventures on the Johnson Canyon walk.
It seemed that the uniform of the day was fluorescent colors for most of the kids. They made a pretty rainbow along the path as they hurried ahead of the group.
We saw many families on bicycles in the park, and someday maybe we’ll do that. It seems funny that we haven’t taken advantage of this canyon before with the kids.
We landed at Rebecca’s house and ate cinnamon rolls and played on her swing (well, some of us). Sparky treed one of her cats and generally bothered Rebecca’s other cats. The adults went out for Mexican food that evening and had a great time.
As we talked about the day, Richard remembered all of the years of hearing about family gatherings and not being able to participate. Now we’re living a very different life with our parents and many siblings nearby. I am glad to be able to be within a few hours drive to the red rocks of southern Utah and the nice folks that live among them.
Demolition on my parents’ Round House begins this afternoon. We stopped by over the weekend to salvage some of the decorative tiles that the original owner placed under the eaves of the deck and in the floor of the family room. Daniel says that someday when he builds a cabin, he will use the tiles he has collected during his lifetime to decorate it.
Goodbye,Round House! We have loved you. Here’s a post I wrote about it several years ago.
My parents are building a new home on the land. I am very excited for them and for the family. It’s good that there are always projects to be done at the Spring Lake property.
I guess my day will be spent with the Portuguese court, soft tissues, blankets, and throat lozenges.
It’s a small cold, but I think I need the rest. Plus I am sad because we just found out that my grandfather has cancer.
I need a day and then maybe I can do something again.
When my Aunt Susan passed away last spring without a real goodbye or memorial service, I had thoughts and feelings that felt like orphans. I was confused and sad and there was no place for me to share those feelings. Then I was invited to her apartment and given almost all of her clothing.
We feel guilty when we do things that make it seem like we are moving on. Suddenly I was assuming her fabulous wardrobe and trying to make it my own. My Uncle Dwight said that it was so difficult for him to see all of her things leaving her apartment, but he knew that she would want her things to go to family. For me, this trip to her apartment was a chance to say goodbye to this much adored aunt.
It took me a while to feel comfortable wearing her clothes. Her perfume or a business card in a pocket would make me sad.
I’ve shared that I love her clothes, but it’s not just because the jackets are beautiful. It’s also because they remind me of her. My aunt brightened every room she visited. She got excited about people and accomplishments and loved to commemorate special events. I think of her when I put on one of her jackets and I wonder how she would face my day.
As a tribute to her, I thought that I would list some of the special events in the past year in which thoughts of her have accompanied me as I have worn her clothing.
Susan was there to celebrate many big occasions in my life. I’ve celebrated many things wearing her clothes this year. Timothy pinned a mothers pin to one of her jackets when he earned his Arrow of Light. Her clothes have been to concerts, an honor society induction ceremony, and baseball games.
Susan did work for a foundation to benefit schools. I have worn her jackets, blouses, pants, and jewelry to visit classrooms twice a week at our local elementary school. I think she would be happy to know that.
It’s fun to wear some of her more whimsical things when I teach the Young Women.
A special sweater has come along to a girls’ lunch with my sisters and a good visit with my parents in the fall. She loved family gatherings.
For my birthday, I dressed in her red ruffled plaid blouse and a red jacket when I went on a date with my two favorite men, Richard and my dad. Susan loved to go to restaurants and celebrate life.
She was with me when I went Christmas shopping. Wearing her gray jacket and carrying one of her purses, I remembered how she loved giving gifts.
Whenever I think of parties, her’s are the standard. I wore her velvet jacket when I hosted our big Christmas party.
This year, as memories of her have accompanied me everywhere, I have been reminded to be more courageous in my writing, speech, and music; more generous in my praise of others, and more willing to enjoy life. It’s a beautiful inheritance.
My brothers say that I was a domineering big sister. I guess if hugs are any indication, I probably was. Look at that grip on Paul’s neck! Look at him struggling for breath while trying to smile with his thumb up for the camera! I don’t think I am domineering anymore. In fact, most of my siblings have made huge changes in their personalities as they have gotten older.
Joe was always the center of attention. Now he is quiet and intense. Paul lived in Joe’s shadow, but now he is more outgoing. My brother Matt hated school and we wondered if he would graduate. He now has a PhD. One of my sisters believed that she was a dog for a few years. She is way over that now. 😉
I think about sibling dynamics all of the time. The oldest child, or oldest child of each gender often feels more responsibility toward siblings. Richard is not the oldest, but he has many characteristics of an oldest child because he is the oldest brother. When we have family gatherings, sibling dynamics continue to be in play and influence behavior.
When I think back to my childhood, I see that my brothers and sisters were so influential in the formation of my sense of responsibility. Through relationships with them, I learned what it means to love faithfully. I would quarrel with my brothers, but avoided speaking negatively about them with others.
I recently watched some old home movies from 30 years ago. I was trying to play the piano, but my brothers were banging on the keys and making faces, one covering his ears in agony. I put up with a lot. Perhaps if the camera hadn’t been rolling, I would have shouted at them.
In one of the early home videos that Richard and I made, I discovered that Daniel did the SAME THING to Paige as she played piano as my brothers did to me. Too funny.
I study the relationships among my own children and smile at their steadiness, but also their evolution. Paige and Daniel have always been good to each other. Timothy and Mark like to clash, but they have become best friends over the past year or so. As a parent, it’s difficult not to allow sibling order to influence the way I treat them. I work hard to not ignore the middle children in my family, but I’m doing a lousy job not spoiling my baby. All well. What can you do? It seems that sibling dynamics are greater than any one person can overcome.
I keep a copy of this photo close by. My great-grandmother is on the far right. My great-great grandmother is on the far left. My grandmother is the little girl.
I keep this photo for several reasons.
I wrote the following post a few weeks ago, but I have been afraid to post it for a few reasons.
You can read it or skip it. If you don’t like it, that’s ok because I’m pretty sure all of these women in the photo have my back and they think that I am darling.
The Post I Was Hesitant to Publish goes like this:
We attended a party one day before the big church Christmas program in which I was to play the violin. As the entertainment for the party a violin professor with a PhD in violin performance played for us.
It’s not logical and it’s immature, but my confidence plummeted after hearing this violinist.
The next day I was moody and I had a bad rehearsal. How was I going to get my head back together so I could play that evening?
Then came the angels. They were people in my church congregation who stopped me in different settings throughout the day.
“What have you read lately?” one person asked, initiating a discussion that we began earlier this year. Our conversation turned to talents and gifts versus faith as we serve God. He said something like, “God uses people because of their faith, not necessarily their gifts.” This was something I needed to hear. He was the angel sent to remind me to have the faith to be an instrument, and not focus on proficiency alone.
All day people from the choir for whom I was playing the accompaniment were so kind and encouraging.These were the angels who lifted me over my insecurities.
Just before the performance, I ran into my friend who played Tevye in the production of Fiddler on the Roof earlier this year when I got to be the fiddler. We laughed over the adventures of that show. Here was the angel who got my mind off my troubles.
I asked Richard to sit near me while I played, just off to the side. His presence was angelic and helpful. My mom and Paige sat in the congregation and gave me another reason to play my best. Daniel, who was singing in the choir, always gives me a private encouragement before I play. It’s a tender gesture that always goes to my heart.
There were also probably unseen angels who helped me to play without shaking.
I cringe at this fear and weakness that I show when I have to play, but I have learned about faith, true friends, and angels through these experiences of working through it. Someday I’ll be able to get over myself.
The performance came and went. I played and it was just fine… not perfect, but sufficient. Looking back, how could it have been otherwise with such a team rooting for me?