Extended family – Page 26 – Letters from Home

Words to match the season

Richard and I were awake early Christmas morning when the snow began to fall. It was a perfect Christmas setting. More things than snow affected my heart this year. There were moments of deep spiritual peace, happiness, some melancholy, satisfaction, and searching. Memories had full expression as I nestled in blankets near the Christmas tree. Here are some of the words that have found meaning for me over this Christmas break.

Sages, leave your contemplations,
Brighter visions beam afar;
Seek the great desire of nations,
Ye have seen His natal star;
Come and worship,
Come and worship,
Worship Christ, the newborn King!

-James Montgomery, Angels From the Realms of Glory

With the end of the year comes a lot of introspection for me. I wonder if I am better than I was last year. I wonder if I have contributed enough of myself to others. I wonder if I CAN change my poor habits. It was during some of these thoughts that I really listened to the lyrics of the Christmas Hymn above. “Sages, leave your contemplations, Brighter visions beam afar; Seek the great desire of Nations…” I was being reminded to look beyond my plans and thinking and look to the Savior. “Brighter visions beam afar…” With him, all things, greater things than I can imagine, are possible.

…But [she] kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. -Luke 2:19

Timothy was ordained a Deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood just before Christmas. There were 3 generations of family represented in the room. A week later, Paige received her Patriarchal Blessing. This time, past, present, and future generations mingled in the words of her blessing. Each of these sacred experiences I will keep in my heart for a long time.

If we could look into each other’s hearts and understand the unique challenges each of us faces, I think we would treat each other much more gently, with more love, patience, tolerance, and care. -Elder Marvin J Ashton, Ensign, May 1992.

I learned to love several more people in 2014. This required throwing away some of my hasty judgments about their motivations and choices. I was humbled several times as I learned about challenges that they face, mostly in silence. I learned again that loving people is less about merit (mine and theirs) and more about vision. We love who people really are, not the things that hold them down.

And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! -Charles Dickins, A Christmas Carol.

I was a little stretched and had some grumpy Scrooge moments as we were inundated with things to buy and things to bake and places to be. I heard the words of Dickens about the reformed Ebeneezer Scrooge, “And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well.” Had we kept Christmas well? I sat down and wrote the things that we did that really mattered. This winnowing of memories helped me to see that we had.

I have many hopes and dreams for 2015. At the close of the 2014, I am so thankful for music, lyrics, literature, family, and scripture that helps me keep the season in proper perspective.

The year-end photo swap

1-DSC_5419-001 — Photo by Matt Sanchez: Polar bear challenge at the Weber

I’m trying to compile pictures for 2014 and I’m relying on lots of sources to do it. There has been a big exchange of photos among my sisters, a brother, and friends. These are some of my favorite finds this month.

1-IMG_1888 — Photo by Susan Vaughn: Mark’s room

1-IMG_1080 — Photo by Dean Brockbank: This was the most harrowing event of the year (more than rappelling and Angel’s Landing). Boys are sprung at each other in this human rubber band contraption.

1-IMG_1120 — Photo by Dean Brockbank: Youth Conference

1-IMG_0599-001 — Tubing at youth conference

by an — photo by Andrea Donaldsen: Les Miserables at Jordan High (our kids are in the pit!)

1-Sarah 4 — Photo by Sarah Hainsworth: Thanksgiving at Spring Lake

1-sarah 3 — Photo by Sarah Hainsworth: Thanksgiving at Spring Lake

Happy Thanksgiving

We’re spending Thanksgiving with most of these kids.

I machine embroidered these names in time for Thanksgiving. We’re going to attach these to baskets in cubby holes at my parents’ new house in Spring Lake. I can’t wait to see each child’s basket in a special spot at Grandma’s. I think it’s a great idea to have a place for each child to keep their things when they visit.

Each name is done in the child’s favorite color. Now that I’m done with this big project I just want to play with these colorful little tags. I’ve spent 15 minutes laying them out in different configurations on the table. Do I have time to do this? No, no I do not.

The Miracles of Song and the Courage of Youth

This is my dad and his family as they sent him off on a mission. I’m not sure what’s going on behind those stoic faces. Dread? Sadness? Bewilderment? Not ready for the camera?

My dad joined the Church when he was 17 years old. His family was not religious, but he had a few friends who were instrumental in his conversion. There was the neighbor who gave the family a Book of Mormon which sat on a shelf for years until my dad read it clandestinely in his room while throwing a basketball against the wall to avoid suspicion. There were some darling girls who invited him to early morning seminary, which he attended faithfully, learning the Old Testament. And then there was the Oakland Temple Pageant. His friends took him there and when the choir of 500 youth voices sang The Spirit of God, his heart was deeply touched. He had found the source of peace in a time of real upheaval. It was the late 1960’s in the Bay Area.

My dad’s story of hearing all of those young men and young women singing is best heard in person, and I am sure I am leaving out details. However, I believe that it was one of the sacred events that changed the course of his life.

It’s my dad’s story, but it’s also a part of my story. If those kids hadn’t shared their love of the gospel…if they hadn’t sung their hearts out… if he hadn’t had the Book of Mormon in his home… if he hadn’t been courageous and decided to be baptized, he wouldn’t have met my mom and I wouldn’t be here.

I believe in the miracles of music and the courage of youth.

As I sing in this choir with 300 kids ages 12-18, I am having a powerful experience.There are songs that I still cannot sing the whole way through without stopping for tears.

I hope someone in the audience will be touched by this music. I know that music can change lives.

*Butler Middle School is actually on 2700 E.

Spring Lake Views

Long before my parents bought the Round House in Spring Lake, this was a special place in our family. My great-grandparents lived in Spring Lake and farmed there in the 1930’s through the early 1960’s. I remember trips to Spring Lake to visit the old house, the trout farm, and the little lake. There is something so beautiful about this rural area. In fact, the lake (as it used to be before the trees were all removed) is one of the places I think about when something unpleasant is happening.

At the base of the Secret Garden there is a beautiful view of the Payson Temple.

I love the meandering pathways through periwinkle and oak in the Secret Garden.

The new house is nearly finished. Our fingers are crossed that we can eat our Thanksgiving dinner there.

8 years ago

Eight years ago my dad and mom began their missionary journey. They were asked to come to the Church office building in Salt Lake City for several interviews before being called as a mission president and companion and there was a lot of training which began 6 months before they went to the missionary training center. My mom learned Spanish. My dad revisited his Spanish speaking skills. He shaved his mustache.

They moved out of their home and said goodbye to the grandchildren. It was a big deal in our family to see this happen.

They served for 3 years in the California San Bernardino mission. My mom taught, cooked, entertained, cooked, taught, loved, and spent a lot of time on the phone dealing with the health issues of their missionaries while my dad presided over the mission. There isn’t time to list all the things a mission president does for the missionaries, the people who are being taught by the missionaries, the members, and the community. I saw both my parents shine as they did the work. It was a busy, busy time.

Just a few months after they came home they were called to serve in the Provo Missionary Training Center. My dad served in branch presidencies and as a Branch President for Spanish speaking missionaries. This meant they would be at the MTC usually 2 nights a week and all day on Sundays. It meant my dad would read and respond to letters from his missionaries on another evening each week. My family was able to attend a sacrament meeting at the MTC on Christmas Day a few years ago. The missionaries spoke Spanish at whatever level they could. I saw how they loved my parents and how parents loved them. My dad has a great zeal for the gospel and my mom has a quiet wisdom that the missionaries love.

They were released on Sunday morning, which means that their service was accepted and they are no longer serving as missionaries. My heart broke a little bit for them, especially my dad. I am so proud of my parents. It’s been a marathon… an 8-year marathon, and they have touched so many lives.

Work day

1-IMG_20141011_160836 — On Saturday the boys and I went down for an afternoon at Spring Lake. We stayed a lot longer than we expected because the boys (especially Mark) were having such a great time. We hauled trash, dug holes, moved dirt and rocks, poured cement, and admired the house. This is the area where they will build a deck next week. There is a lot of prep work and a concrete retaining wall to build. The big hole in the ground is to manage drainage off the house and hill. It was a great activity for younger boys. Daniel was the cement mixer and Grandpa’s right hand man.

Grandma’s Birthday

My mom and I decided to surprise my grandmother in Nevada for her birthday last weekend. Here are a few pictures from the party.

She allowed us to pamper her for a few days. My grandfather told me over and over how much he loved her. She takes good care of him.

She is quite the decorator. Isn’t her living room lovely?

1-IMG_20141004_194651 — David, my grandfather, my cousin Elizabeth, and her new husband Ivano

My grandmother asked me to play the violin at her party. My grandfather wouldn’t let me stop. I played and played and he asked for more after the guests left, his face beaming because he loves music.

Somehow I missed taking a picture of my mom. It’s an all-day drive to my grandmother’s house and we talked the whole way there and back again, my voice becoming hoarse. My mom and I could probably call driving together “cheap therapy.” Years ago, we got talking so intently that I accidentally drove 30 miles into Wyoming instead of to the cabin where we were headed.

I learned things about my grandmother on this trip without my children. I saw her marriage, her personality, and her interests in a new way. I’m thankful for the women in my family. I’m thankful for my grandfather, who can’t remember many things, but remembers how much he loves his wife and children.

A Funeral Today

They sat on the back row of the chapel, feet crossed neatly in the aisle where people walked into sacrament meeting in my parents’ ward. They were a long line of widows and a few elderly couples. Their well-set hair and brightly-colored tailored jackets were predictable parts of the scenery at church. They may have sat at the back of the chapel to distance themselves from perfumes, infants throwing Cheerios, or just because that is where they always sat. I think they sat there for the view.

Every week I knew that they were watching me and everyone else who walked into church. They were the silent cheerleaders in my life, and a smile was their greeting. I was surprised at how they knew my name or occasionally singled me out to talk about something, even years later when I would visit my parents’ ward during college or after I was married and living out of state. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course they knew me! They had watched me walk into church my whole life. They were my in-town grandmothers that I saw every week, unlike my own grandmothers that I would see only a few times a year.

My parents live in the same house they bought when I was two. They haven’t been to church in their ward in seven years because of missionary assignments. Eventually when their missionary service is over, they will go back to a ward that no longer has a long line of elderly women on the back row. I think that will be difficult for them. Their mentors and friends are almost all gone now.

We lost another of our grandmothers from the back row last week. Her name was Pat and instead of working on my “to do list” today, I decided to attend her funeral. She is one of the last of a beautiful group of friends who raised children together, served in the Relief Society together, and grew old together. I just had to go today so I could see a few of their faces again.

It was the right thing to do. I wanted to honor the steady influence she and the others have had in my life. Although this sister was unwell and unable to attend the temple for years, she renewed her temple recommend faithfully. The last temple recommend interview was just a few weeks before her death and she asked that they place her recommend in her hand before her burial.

This is the caliber of women with whom I attended church in my childhood. I was influenced by them when I was young, and memories of them make me want to be a better person now. They are angels to me because they watched over me… Sister Dunford, Sister Axelgard, Sister Asay, Sister Christensen, Sister Whittle, Sister Carter, Sister Hanna, Sister Stone, Sister Holcomb, Sister Davies, Sister Peterson, and more… (Only one from this list is still living.) Thank you for being my in-town grandmothers, steady, beautiful, and true to the faith.

Spring Lake update

Have you wondered how my parents’ new place is coming along? We took some pictures on Saturday. It’s getting close to completion and it’s very exciting. My parents and siblings have worked so hard on this. Richard and Daniel have worked hard as often as they can. I’ve only helped to paint a couple of rooms. It’s not a round house anymore, but my dad’s design is full of nods to the previous architecture, such as stone work, rounded staircases, and a rounded turret room with a view of the Payson temple. The house is full of windows and lots of natural light. It will be a great family gathering place.

1-DSC_2235 — The stone mason did a nice job.

1-DSC_2237 — This is from the back corner of the kitchen looking through the great room. My mom and Susan did the tile work.

1-DSC_2238 — looking toward the kitchen from the east front door

1-DSC_2242 — Room beneath the turret… soon there will be a spiral staircase built to the upper level.

1-DSC_2243 — Going to the upper level of the turret room is a scary climb without stairs.

1-DSC_2244 — More of my mom’s tile handiwork

1-DSC_2247 — My dad in heaven, painting and painting and painting. I didn’t take pictures of all of the bedrooms. There are a lot of them and they’re all being painted.

1-DSC_2248 — Another view of the great room from the master bedroom hall