In recent years, I have measured success in projects completed and books read, people visited and words written. By most of these measures, I failed this summer, seriously failed. However, the days were full. I did what I thought I should do each day. I put aside some things to do the invisible and unnamed. Some days I wasted time, other days I did too much. I learned that my goal to read one book a week is not a good goal. The goal should be to keep reading.
So, the lesson of summer 2019 is to keep going, even when it seems like it doesn’t make a dent. Eventually, I will finish that 900-page book, and hope to see that these days of unremarkable tasks were the making of me.
(Photos are from our Labor Day hike to Twin Lakes, which took us past Solitude Lake and Silver Lake)
Just as I was surprised last year by a serendipitous sunflower at Daniel’s departure, another one popped up in the garden on time for his one year mark. It brought me to my knees right there on the lawn. God knows our days.
Our boys performed at a piano recital on Monday night. Timothy played a Debussy piece and Mark played a Beethoven. We took them out for Chinese food and someone asked if Timothy was on his way to a mission. Aaack! Not yet! Mark pushed his food around his plate. He is full of cares.
I walked into the middle school with Mark this week, and through the halls of the elementary school to visit my friend’s Harry Potter themed classroom. I did not walk into the high school, but corresponded with one of Tim’s teachers. Still, I am in denial that they will be in school again on Monday. My homeschool memories clutch my heart and make me cry a little each August. Was I really so bad for my kids?
Tim invited a girl over to watch a movie and we all felt awkward and I found myself baking brownies as a bridge. Even their fudgy goodness couldn’t span the gap, but they were delicious.
This summer, the lawn care and landscaping business run by Tim and his friends has kept him outdoors all day, six days a week sometimes. This week, in addition to mowing, they decided to offer a garbage can washing service. Tim was in charge of transportation of the cans, just emptied by the garbage truck, to a new location where another boy pressure washed them. I have texts from happy customers about their sweet smelling cans. This is life with Timothy: unpredictable, but excellent.
Paige moves home tomorrow for a few weeks before her semester begins. There will be three “children” home for the next few weeks, with only one abroad.
Backpacking nearby, Richard is able to send me photos of the evening with Mark. What a blessing.
I remember the last night at girls camp in Arizona, I moved to a new tent by myself to make space for the Bishop’s wife to stay. That night, I noticed that there was cell service in this isolated tent, and Richard and I were able to have a precious conversation that I needed so much.
That was seven years ago, just before our move to Utah. Many miles and experiences later, the highlights of my summer are still moments of connection with Richard, whether on long walks or during fleeting calls from campsites with spotty service.
As I wrote the last paragraph, Richard called from his hammock, somewhere near Brighton. All is well there.
We were busy at the Weber, my sisters’ families had gone home, and we were running out of time to do the Virginia Reel. My mom and I debated whether we had the energy to play Turkey in the Straw 200 times, but if you look at the faces of the dancers, I think you can see why we do this each year.
The Weber property has power over memory and time. Nowhere else can I feel my grandparents’ presence and influence greater. It’s here that I feel the tangibles of my childhood so well, but also slip easily into my place in the continuum of family roles. I’m the older aunt in the kitchen now, the one on the shore and bridge watching the children float down the river. I have been the child in the river and the teen lingering on the edges of traditional family games and songs. I have been the young mother chasing children and playing in the river with them. Now I am the older mother, no longer trying to get my children to eat something new, with a heart stretched by distance between us. The balance has shifted a little during these midlife years, and I find that I look ahead a little less than I recall the past. In childhood, everything lay ahead. In the quiet of this phase of life, I feel ancestors about me, and see that they continue to shape my life, my expectations for my children, and my definition of the good life. It is a beautiful legacy to visit each summer at the cabin.
Feeling a bit low this week, I went shopping for a gift, and noticed a beautiful rug in the store. I took picture after picture and admired the price. But the thought came that buying this rug wouldn’t fix the way I felt. I remembered a friend in Arizona whose home was filled with expensive, beautiful rugs. When I complimented them, she told me that she bought them during a time of grief.
On this beautiful week of sherbet sunsets, long walks, porch conversations, and a midnight message that family traditions live on while apart, my lapse in courage does not need to be memorialized with a rug!
Finding courage is about gathering from a depth of being and experience we no longer remember. My courage this week came as I studied pictures and stories of ancestors, and from a small voice in my mind reminding me of the power within myself to handle this time in my life. It came as I trusted in my ancient and continuing relationship with God.
Wagon cookies for Pioneer DayPaige’s wagon cookiesSpring Lake porch conversationMMSK togetherBuddies forever
One surprise was this subtle, powerful song was the audience favorite at the Pioneer Day concert I attended.
Last Sunday, when I made my trusty plan for the week, I thought my highlight would be a small Primary Presidents’ luncheon for twelve women. It was to be a good, but basic week. But then, invitations came. All week, I have been surprised by the expansion of my plans.
One big change in plans was I was asked to accompany someone in church on the violin, only the music was written for the cello. Richard watched me trying to transpose music by hand and took charge and produced the music I needed using the computer. He intervened quickly, without my asking, and this was so helpful!
Another small surprise was being invited to perform our song at two family gatherings last night after playing the song in church. It was an honor to be invited to these two homes for a few minutes.
Do we know how powerful a home and family feel to someone stepping in? Even though I came from my own cozy evening with family, I felt honored and gifted by the family feeling (the Spirit of the Lord) in each of these homes.
Friends, I am certain that your brand of hospitality and your family, even if it’s one person, have power and goodness. That may be a surprise to you, but I know it is true. Invite someone to your home for lemonade or music or a meal. They will not forget it.
The Sanchez cousins made a Ship, turtle, dragon, Tucson temple, crayon, “A”, church, and a saguaro.I am pretty proud of their work. It was a lot of prep work for me, but the class went smoothly. When things got tricky with the grout, my sister Susan helped me finish them.MMSK together againRichard and Rob worked hard to get the 4-wheelers ready for some rides this weekend. This one was near Tibble Fork.The Rosses from Austin came so I baked a cake.
From churchofjesuschrist.org, Primary Come Follow Me June 24-30
Last week I prepared an activity using a map of Jerusalem with the final events of Christ’s life. We followed the numbers and looked up scriptures from the Old Testament that prophesied of these events or used language echoed by Gospel writers. “Did not our hearts burn by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32) The Savior had to re-frame the events his disciples witnessed that last week so they could see him as the Christ. I don’t know what scriptures he shared with them, but perhaps Psalm 22 and Isaiah 53 were among them. Those two chapters rend my heart.
The scriptures we looked up last night according to the numbers on the map:
Zechariah 9:9
Leviticus 14:36
(skipped)
Isaiah 53:4, 6, 10-11
Isaiah 53:7
Psalm 22:6-8
Psalm 22:16-18, Psalm 22:1, Psalm 31:5
Isaiah 53:9
This was one of my favorite activities all year. Simple is still best, and with busy lives, it helps to have a very direct activity instead of a deep discussion sometimes.
