When Paige was young, we would often do crafts to celebrate her birthday. I thought it would be fun to do something like that again. Mark and I set up an array of succulent plants and ordered lots of little woodland animals and buildings to populate the pots.
Squee! So cute.
And then Paige and I watched this movie. Happy day!
Marysvale
Sevier River
Paiute County
Panguitch
Bryce Canyon National Park
All of our children at the cabin (first time since 2017)✔️ River runs✔️ Wildlife✔️ Wildflowers✔️ Extended family ( ) Memories and thoughts of extended family✔️✔️
Our 2020 Sanchez family reunion is being done in shifts, with each sibling and my parents invited to take a day at the cabin. Memories and traditions fill voids when we can’t be together. This year is just a blip in a very long story.
This is the usual crowd at the cabin each year:
What did we do with our 24 hours at the cabin this year? We read, played a couple of games, went on walks, collected rocks, and went tubing!
My friend shared this, and whether the quote and citation are perfect, I do not know, but I like these ideas from C.S. Lewis. Just read Covid-19 in the place of Atomic Age and there you go. We have permission to live joyfully.
I’ve been focusing on preparing food, really good food, to serve my family. It’s gone almost this quickly, so I keep cooking nearly every day, every day, every day. It’s a big part of my life. Good job, me.
This post is brought to you today by Daniel. The 4-wheelers, planning, and execution of this trip were by Richard.
I have kept the twinkle lights in our windows since Christmas time, one of the best purchases I ever made. Slowly, I pick up projects again, and watch some movies in the long afternoons. Embroidery, simple coloring projects, and reading are also ways I pass the time, and it’s better when someone plays the piano in the background. The pianist in the video is Timothy. This scene is one of my versions of heaven.
I awake to morning light dancing through the leaves of trees. I end the day with small lights against dark sky, all good things.
I didn’t post much about family life in April. Days are smudged in my memory, all about the same. Sundays we gathered for dinner and to watch old home movies. Richard worked an unconscionable demand of hours, mostly from home, thankful to be employed. I have watched the clock for entertainment since my surgery, content to do almost nothing. We watched a movie almost every evening. Daniel has been a primary care giver to me, and we have had some good talks. Tim has worked outdoors, mowing and aerating, and has been faithful in completing school work. I learned quickly that I should not ask him about school. He manages his life like a boss. Mark was most content to be home, with days uncluttered by middle school nonsense. He talks through each assignment aloud, frustrations and triumphs sounding in my ears. We have eaten more takeout than usual, hoping to keep our favorite restaurants alive. Also, friends have provided a lot of meals since my surgery. I finished reading The Lord of the Rings trilogy and watched the movies. That was a good choice. April was the best and the worst. I know you can relate.
Our cute neighbors, the Zeigler family organized some entertainment for our culdesac last week: fire dancers! I watched from indoors, and could see my neighbors, gathered as families in their yards to enjoy the Isolation Burn Angels perform. It was so weird and fun.
These weeks have not been easy. The not knowing, the not-so-good news, the waiting, painful conversations with people who heard Daniel was home when he was not, the constant school emails, and the work stress were rough. Things were complicated in Chile. Daniel helped print four different release certificates for himself in the mission office as his evacuation date moved several times. I prayed for peace constantly. One night, out of words to pray, I lay in bed praying the words to “Bring Him Home,” which was one of my more effective prayers.
Neither Richard nor I slept well the night before Daniel’s flight, and Richard tracked that plane constantly throughout the day. I kept busy, but felt my chest tighten as the day progressed. We drove to the airport together, two nervous wrecks. No, we didn’t think he would come home sick or harmed, but we were embarking into an unknown. Daniel arrived, full of light and reassurance. That night, I had my best sleep in years.
It’s not that we lacked faith. It’s that faith sometimes needs to be tested. Would we complain? Would we push our needs ahead of others who were suffering in different ways? Would we keep turning to God? Would we be overly dramatic about circumstances? Would we neglect the needs of our other children as we hyper-focused on our worries about international travel for Daniel? Would we stop acknowledging the blessings that flowed because Daniel was serving a mission? Would we forget hope? Would we neglect the little things like family prayer and scripture study in this sickly, dense fog?
There is much more to live before the resolution of this story. I don’t want to forget the comfort that only came through prayer. I don’t want to forget the light in Daniel’s missionary face. I don’t want to forget that there was a continual flow of understanding and concrete instructions as I read the Book of Mormon each day, pen in hand. These have been precious, soul-expanding days leading up to his return. Now that he is home, I am giving myself permission to breathe, rejoice, rest, and just look at Daniel’s face, in line with the rest of our children, all gathered together again.