She just wanted to be a mother...

She was left alone at 14. Her father died and her mother moved away to be a nanny. She was shy, painfully shy. She would be so all her life. At 18, after getting through high school, she met her husband. He was everything she was not. Loud, outspoken, brazen, would say anything to anyone. For him it was love at first sight. For her, I don't know. She never told me.

He was warned by his brother. He could never hurt her or he would answer to his brother. He tried his whole life to keep that promise. It was broken, without doubt. We cannot live for 40+ years with someone and not hurt them. It is not possible. But he tried. She made no such promise to anyone. She hurt him too.

All her life she wanted to be a mother. All her life. She saw a good life ahead with her strong, wild and slightly crazy man. She loved him. He was everything she was not and she had hope. Then a few months later her first baby was born too early. She died two days later. It was devastating. The family gathered as was the tradition of her world. A tiny casket was built. Food was prepared. A funeral was held. She mourned. Almost 1 ½ years later a boy was born. But, it was not what she expected. He could not nurse. She bottle fed him and mourned that she could not nurse. 15 months later another boy was born. He was early too, but not as early as her little girl and he survived. Again, he could not nurse and she mourned again. She did not nurse any of her children. She could not produce enough milk to nourish them. Was it her fault? Could she have done something different? Relaxed? Ate something different that would help her produce enough milk? It will never be known. It just wasn't.

1 ½ years later another girl was born and she rejoiced. But this one was always sick. Colds, ear infections, pneumonia... and that was in the first year. The doctor warned her that if she relaxed her vigilance the baby could die. Now she had two toddlers (boys) and a VERY sick baby. As this baby grew things did not get better. She watched her as a three year old hallucinate from high fevers as she lay in a dark room with measles and a year later had the same experience with a severe case of mumps. By this time she had another baby girl. It was hard. So hard. It was almost more than she could manage. There was no place to find relief.

In her world men did not do housework, they did not take care of babies, they worked. Her husband worked long, hard, physical hours in construction. They moved. At first there was family. Her sister and her family were close and her sister's children loved her children. But then they moved away from family. It was harder and she was alone.

Then her mother came to stay and there was relief. Mother knew children, knew cooking, knew cleaning, knew how to make it on not quite enough. She was there for several weeks or months at a time depending on the year, and it was always such a relief to have her there. They quilted together, sewed together and it was nice to able to go places without taking EVERYONE with her all the time.

A few years later another tragedy. Her husband got sick... and did not get well... for the rest of his life. Everything changed then. Everything.                

to be continued....                                            

Kids...

D. took M. to nursery on Sunday.  He cried when she left. Apparently he adjusted to her absence because when she went to pick him up he was playing Ring-Around-the-Rosy.  He looked up at her with eyes that said, "What are you doing here.  You are interrupting my life."  Then he cried because it was time to go home.  As moms we walk a fine line between keeping our children close to us and not "interrupting" their lives.  Ah me....  Little does D. know that it will not really change even when he grows up. 

Of The Things That Matter Most

D. came out on Friday afternoon and stayed the night to help Dad clean up the branches and tree trunks left over from the Amish loggers.  (quite an image huh!)  Anyway, Friday evening we watched movies, ate Christmas food and talked until D. fell asleep in front of the TV.  Then on Saturday morning Dad and D. worked outside, we went shopping at the Super Walmart in town, ate a nondescript lunch and finished the chores outside in the afternoon.  It was easy, chatty, fattening, and fun.  It was one of the  "things that matter most".  Looking out the window and seeing the two of them outside dragging branches and sawing logs made me feel good.  Sitting in front of the TV and making fun of whoever was on the screen makes me smile even now.  Seeing the joy on Dad's face as he and Drew worked together, and then wandered through Walmart together was perfect. 

The things that matter most are simple.  The things that matter most take time.  The things that matter most are the only things that really matter. 

The Place of the Temple

 D and J spent the last few days together.  After a couple of days they called me and asked, "How did you do this?"  "Do what?"  I asked.  "How did you have three little kids all at the same time?"  I just laughed and told them I did not know.  But then I sat down to plan a lesson on marriage for RS/Priesthood on Sunday.

I do know how I did it.  I went to the temple often during those years.  I went as often as I could all during the years I lived in Maryland.  For many months I went weekly, but most of the time I went every  month.  For 5 years I worked there, helping other sisters have experiences there.  That is how I did it, girls.  Over the years I spent a lot of time in the temple.
 

I went to the temple with Dad, with friends and alone during those years..  I love going to the temple by myself.  There is such peace there and when I don't have to talk to anyone I really enjoy it.

I was busy with babies, kids, callings, home and all it entails, jobs, and Dad. I was in the Primary, YW, and RS.  I taught seminary and went to girl's camp.  I had a paper route and worked for a real estate agent.  I taught school, took tickets at HS football games, and worked the clock and scoreboard at basketball games.  It was great!  And I found time to get the to temple. 

Now I always go with Dad.  and it is great. Sometimes we do sealings for his family, and it delightful to kneel across the alter from him again.  Other times we go our own way and I like doing work that involves only women as we provide ordinances for other women.

The temple is a place for a direct connection to deity.  It is calm, peaceful, clean and  I can feel all my negative, frustration, anger slide away while I am there.  It allows me to start over, remember who I really am and what is really important.  It is a place of help, hope, and healing.  Don't feel like you are good enough? Don't feel like you have enough time? Just don't feel like it?  Go anyway.

It will heal you.  It will strengthen you.  It will calm you.  You will become more than you can become any other way.  You will have ideas, find solutions, know what to do next, and you will find your life headed in the right directions.  So go.  Get a baby sitter and Go Often.  At least go regularly. 

BePrepared.com/analyzer

I found a website that should be helpful in keeping track of your food storage.  Go to this page (it is part of Emergency Essentials website) and scroll down to start.  It is built around buying from their website, but you don't have to do that.  You can just use their info to help you get/stay organized.


www.BePrepared.com/Analyzer

New Years Resolutions

It seems I make New Years Resolutions every year. And at the end of each year I look at what I wanted to do differently and realize I failed miserably in most areas.

So, now I consider "matters to attend to..." each December and make a list in January and try to attend to them throughout the year. This year speaking kindly will be number one on the list, and I will return to my old favorites of scripture reading, (Made it through 1/3 of the Old testament this year. I was trying for all of it.), and Spanish. I will improve my Spanish this year. (that one goes on every year and for the past 7 years it has been a no go. *sigh*)

So, instead of resolutions and goals, identify your "matters to attend to..." :) It is that time of year.

Life

Life will knock you down more times than you can imagine... Don't knock yourself down.

Unkind Words

A woman spoke in our stake conference today. She told of an experience her 14 year old daughter had at school. She came home from school crying. Each student had been given an assignment to speak for four minutes on a topic of their choice. One girl brought her four year old sister to class to be part of her speech. You could see the little girl loved her big sister and was so excited to be part of her school day. She was happy to be involved with all the older kids. She smiled and looked at her big sister with such adoration.

The big sister took the little girl to the front of the class, and boosted her up on a stool. The little girl sat there beaming.

Then the older sister started her speech. She began a four minute tirade of negativity toward her little sister. She told how she was bratty, hung around when her friends were around, annoying, ate too much, was fat (not true). She went on and on. As she spoke the little girl’s adoring smile melted into misery. The woman’s daughter was devastated, in agony herself as she watched this take place. Her heart ached for this little girl who loved her big sister so much.

The stake conference speaker could not get through this part of her talk without crying. She cried as she told how devastated her daughter was as she sat and watched this unfold at the front of her class. She cried as she described her daughter sitting in the kitchen trying to understand what had happened. She cried as she asked us, the congregation, to consider what we say to others. Do we speak nastily to those who irritate us at work? Do we speak unkindly in jest? Do we speak negatively about or to anyone in any circumstance? She asked us to stop. Especially with those who live in our homes. Treat each other with kindness she begged us. It was obvious that this incident had dug a gouge in her soul. She was still feeling it as she spoke to us.

She continued. Nothing brings the spirit more quickly than kindness, and nothing drives it away more quickly than unkindness. Don’t let jealousy, contention or strife take over in our homes. We need to take the time to school our tongues. This is an archaic way of saying we need to think carefully before we speak, especially in anger or frustration, and especially in our homes.

Dad and I were struck silent by this talk. We made a commitment to each other at that moment to speak kindly, starting with each other. This will be hard for me. I tend to snipe at Dad on a regular basis. But, we are making this our new year's "matter to attend to"....

On a late August day about 21 years ago, I watched J leave the house in a pink skirt and jean jacket. She had her backpack on her back and she was SO excited. I was excited for her. It was her first day of kindergarten. It would only last 3 hours.

J. was gone. I knew it would only last about 3 hours, but I was at a momentary loss. My life for the last five years had included her. She went almost everywhere I went. We did grocery shopping with a stop at McDonalds on the way home. We took weekly trips to the library to wander, read, find books, and listen to the lady who read to the kids. We did laundry and dishes, cooked dinners, made cookies, went visiting teaching and delivered newspapers on a 50 mile route. She was always there asking questions, telling me what to do and how to do it. That had changed.

Oh, we would still do those things in the summer, on weekends, during the holidays, but things would not be the same. There was a split, a tear that would not be put back together, and should not be put back together. Her life would expand to include the world of school. Mine would be lonely for a while until I adjusted to this change.

I watched the bus drive away and I walked back into the house. I wandered through the kitchen and the family room. I walked upstairs and into the girls’ bedroom. I sat down by the window and waited. I waited until the bus came up the street. I ran out of the house and to the corner to meet her. She hopped off the bus as excited as she was when she left.

I had a similar experience this week. Dad and I spent two days with P, J and their little one. We had a great two days. As we drove home I had a little revelation. J and I had reached another split. I have never hesitated to tell her what to do, how to do it and why she should do it. (I learned it from her.) I have given advice and counsel whether she wanted it or not. Sometimes it was a good thing and sometimes it WAS NOT. The Spirit whispered to me last night that I was wrong. J can live her own life, she can make her own decisions, and enjoy or suffer the consequences of those decisions. I don’t need to give my two cents on every piece of her life. If she wants my advice and my counsel, she will let me know. It is a difficult change. I want my children to be happy and to live righteous lives. However important that is, it is more important to butt out, stand by and be ready to give counsel, pray for blessings for my children and their children… and love them.

This was a sweet moment, sad because I am letting go of someone I love dearly. She is my baby. My mom duties are finished and my grandmother duties have begun. I need to embrace them, enjoy them and not waste a minute of them. *sigh*

If I had Three Weeks

When D. told me about her dream of her idea of doing something fun with my last two weeks of life, I responded, “Oh, D. I only have two weeks left. If I had three weeks I would love to do something fun, but since it is just two weeks, I cannot.” WHAT???????

After that scene, I have made a promise that I will do something fun every week. Not every day, some days are harder than others, but every week I will be able to look back and smile about something fun that I did. When I die, I will look back and remember that every week of the second half of my life (yes that means I will live to be 112 years old) I did something fun.

Preface:

I have always wanted to write. I have kept journals, written family newsletters (albeit short lived), and even started a blog or two (and then immediately discarded them). However, I will start again and see what develops.

A few days ago D. called me and said, "Mom, I had a dream about you last night. In this dream you called and said that you had some nasty disease and only had two weeks left to live. I said to you lets do something fun together." She went on to say that my response was, "Oh, D. if I had three weeks left, we could do something fun. But with only two weeks left, I just can't." We laughed together at the silliness of it, but I have not been able to get that comment out of my mind.

I often want to write to or tell my kids things that I think about concerning the gospel, their lives, my life, their dad and a myriad of other thoughts, concerns, ideas, principles... you get the idea. I have also often thought I would like to write a letter to each of them (I even start them now and again) that would be given to them when I die. But, when do I write such a letter?
Do I write it when they are young and still impressionable? (too late) Do I write it over a period of years and they would find it when I die and they are all teary eyed and sorry they didn't spend more time with me? It never came to fruition in any form.

So, now I plan to keep this blog, adding posts as I think of things I want to tell my children. They can read it or not. (When I send them those emails, they have to read what I write.) In any case it is out there for them and the rest of the world to see. I have not chickened out. I have followed through. I feel better already about what I will tell them.