We traveled to Sparks, Nevada for a party hosted by my aunt and uncle. They invited all of Grandma Stewart’s friends and family for a luncheon to honor her. It was happy and upbeat, and gave us all a sense of closure that we didn’t have after her death because there was no funeral. They held the party in my aunt and uncle’s yard on the week of my grandmother’s birthday. The weather was perfect. My mom read aloud tributes written by family members. I was able to meet my grandmother’s friends and see my cousins.
Richard and I took the kids to grandma’s old house to walk around the yard one last time. That was really hard for me, but it made me feel better to tell myself that tears aren’t such a bad thing if they come when you are reminded of sweet times and dear people.
We were reading the Bible as a family on Monday night and Mark was using my childhood scriptures. He found this note in the pages, written to my friend Thora when I was his age.
This note is one of the earliest surviving documents of the first time I decided to change my name to Angela. Back and forth, Angie and Angela have taken turns my whole life.
It also shows how I had an early interest in animals, which promptly disappeared after I finished a degree in Biology with a Zoology emphasis.
It shows the development of my handwriting style. I think I was imitating someone popular, who was actually very mean.
When Mark found this note he just laughed and handed it to Richard. I cringed and laughed and sent a picture of it to my friend Thora, who still has cute hair, while I still wonder if anyone likes mine. It awakened all sorts of preadolescent demons in my mind.
Be careful what you leave in your scriptures. You never know who will find it.
It’s about aging and dying, medicine and home. It is an important and good read.
This was good because it shatters the idea that we need to build powerful friendships before we can invite people to come to Christ.
This audiobook:
We actually listened to this in August but I keep remembering outrageous quotes. Some sentences you just need to hear to believe. The narrator also has a great Han Solo voice. This is actually not worth your time…unless you are on a long road trip with a preteen, in which case, it is gold.
Someone said to me as I visited her elderly mother who was ill, “You’re a little young for this job. I think Relief Society presidents shouldn’t be called unless they are much older.” (She meant no harm, only concern for my young family.)
“Yes, I am young,” I agreed. “Yet here I am,” I thought. I do lack some years and life experience and knowledge. However, I have a lot of experiences that indicate that the Lord magnifies our efforts, whatever our age.
Last week I got a call from a man in our congregation. He sounded frantic, “I need your help!” and then the cell phone cut out.
Worried, I called him back, thinking of all kinds of awful possibilities for his call. “I have some peaches from my tree that I need someone to prepare. Can you do it?”
“Yes,” I said, remembering all the times we had offered to help this family, but they said they were fine. I knew this meant he had come to trust me. I also knew I could call many people to help me, but that takes time which I didn’t have. I did ask one person, but she wasn’t available. When I saw there weren’t too many peaches, I decided I could do it on my own…only I had never done it before.
Peaches don’t wait for you. You must deal with them quickly when they are ripe. It was after 8 pm when I had time to face the box of peaches and begin the task. I would be up late, of this I was sure.
At this moment, I saw the little light on my phone blinking. There was a text message from a neighbor telling me that she was canning peaches from 8-10 and inviting me to come over. I had signed up to learn her techniques at a canning presentation back in May. She was apologetic for the late notice; she had found a deal on peaches that afternoon and realized they needed to be canned right away.
I don’t love asking for help at the last minute. I don’t even like making phone calls. But I recognized a miracle happening and I needed to act.
I called her and told her I needed her help, not realizing her ENTIRE kitchen was filled with peaches. She and her husband, over steaming pots and sticky peaches told me over speaker phone, “Sure, bring your peaches. We will make it work.”
And they did. Jeremy washed and blanched. I peeled and cut, and Elizabeth prepared the syrup and packed them in containers. Their son also stayed up late in his pajamas to help. In a little over an hour, the task was done, their own peaches and jars set aside to help a neighbor late at night, with no advance notice.
Yes, I am young, and they are young, but sometimes there are miracles. And because of the peaches, I have strengthened friendships with the man with the peach tree, Elizabeth, and Jeremy.
Yesterday was the best day I have had in a long time. I got to speak in church and teach a class. Paige came home for a few hours and we had a nice Sunday dinner. At church I sat on the stand and could see the faces of the women in my congregation that I do not see in Relief Society. Some dear friends were well enough to attend church. The weather was sunny and the colorful mountains startled me with their vibrant red and yellow leaves. It has been four years since I have spoken in church. Sigh. I love writing and public speaking.
(I chose not to post a picture of everyone to avoid posting clear pictures of the neighbor kids.)
We had a wonderful neighborhood party this week. Our neighbors have been through a lot over the past year or so. Nearly every family has dealt with death and/or serious illness. We have come together to mourn and support one another during these times. It was nice to come together to enjoy an outdoor meal. I think they are wonderful neighbors, all. I stayed late, visiting, and came home with a huge bag of produce, a pitcher of homemade root beer, and plans to go on a walk with a neighbor I don’t know well.
Richard went scuba diving over the weekend with some friends. He came home with lots of stories and treasures. From my perspective, his preparations were a big deal. A couple of Richard’s talents are that he seeks new experiences and enjoys life.
Richard’s work party was held last Friday evening at a local theme park. Richard was out of town, so we went without him.
We gathered from the far reaches of our current domains to be together. Paige came up from school in Provo and we met Daniel at his job in Murray. Timothy turned down two invitations from friends to be with us. Mark skipped a baseball practice.
After much ado, we were together, driving up I-15 in the old black minivan. I switched songs on the radio based on the commentary from the back seats. Finally, we resorted to the classical station, only to hear Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, its pensive notes contrasting with the mood of the evening. Timothy made a joke about roller coasters in slow motion to match the melody and we all laughed, the frustrations and responsibilities of the day sliding off and revealing a truer version of ourselves.
During that drive, a familiar feeling came to my heart. I felt as I did during our drives in Arizona, seeking homeschool adventure in our old van, years ago. Triggered by the old, well-trod pattern togetherness, we laughed as we heard Timothy and Daniel’s protests against Adele’s songs on every radio station. The voices were deeper and no one was strapped in a car seat, but some essential feeling had come back during the drive.
It made me wonder if I will ever love a stage of life as much those years when we ran around the desert together. It made me sad that I hated the desert so much when we lived there. I didn’t appreciate what a gift that isolation was to our family. I always loved time with the kids, but who knew the backdrop of our adventures would also hold my heart? When will my point of reference for “wonderful” move to a new period in our lives?
I have changed during these four years, living in the mountains. I don’t lead out in adventures with the kids as I used to. Did I impart all my courage to them, or have I redirected my courage to other areas? I have always lived with big fears, but they, too seem to change. A new fear is that the best days with the kids all together are over.
I want to remember this night because it reminded me that despite all that has changed, some essence of our family dynamic remains strong. We still love our times together. I want it to be enough to know that, despite the reality that similar days are rare.
The late summer twilight-lit faces, spinning and rushing through the park that night are a memory I hope will join the ranks of the good old days when I look back on it, years from now. By then, I trust that these bittersweet thoughts will be dulled by time and experience and new joys. The light really was golden on this evening, perfect for capturing and framing good memories.
I have decided to share a few things Richard and I discussed recently about what makes our marriage work. Really, this list could be summed up in two words, love and respect. But in more detail, we try to…
Avoid talking negatively about our spouse to others.
Support one other in the pursuit of personal interests and development of talents.
Maintain a time when electronic devices are off-limits when we are together.
Do a variety of things together: work, play, worship, learn.
Find identity and interests apart from our children.
Turn to our spouse, not friends and family for support first.
Avoid keeping score on time, activities, obligations, and money.
Greet one another warmly at the end of the day. Give a kiss goodbye.
Speak to one another with respect and kindness.
Honor traditional roles. We don’t resent them; we find ways to make them “ours” by using our talents and interests as we fulfill them.
Help one another in all things. This requires education, skill, and sacrifice.
Continue to work on things that aren’t happy parts of our marriage. We go to bed unsettled sometimes, realizing we can face things with a clearer head the next day.
Marriage has a private life in our hearts and minds. Its success seems to come with a conscious effort to school our thoughts and actions. Feelings of love are a natural result of kindness and loyalty, but real love is so much better than infatuation. It is knowing we have a best friend. It is being a best friend. Sometimes our thinking must change if we are to learn to love truly and deeply. We are still learning.
