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Loss Creates Space
My brother and I stand at the dresser I used as a child. It is covered with sewing notions. Things our mom used to patch levis, stitch quilts, and add badges to scout shirts. Things that were useful when she was around. My brother said: “It’s just a Chex tin, but I remember it from 40 years ago.” I look at the other tin, full of spools of thread and pins and buttons. It takes me to my mom. Actually everything in the house holds a memory of my mom, my dad or my childhood. Our dad’s death evokes our mom, who has been gone almost 13 years. I pick…
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Stress and Kindness
I am on a flight home from Utah. I wear a mask because I don’t want to sneeze on my neighbor. Apparently I’m allergic to dust. Last weekend, while clearing my dad’s home, I developed sinus issues. During the descent of both flights, I feel like my eardrums are going to burst. It turns out to be the perfect segue into the next few days. The following evening, I sit on the couch beside my husband listening to the president of the United States address the nation with an update on the Coronavirus. The day after, between an ENT appointment, check-ins with my kids and a trip to the grocery…
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The Ebb and Flow of Stillness
I walk outside to see the first light. The sky is awash in soft, delicate colors. The ocean is too and the sand is off-white. Unsaturated hues combine for a neutral effect. I notice the visual beauty first, but next hear the consistent roll of a gentle tide. I feel the rhythm. The ocean is calm here. Terrible for surfing, but lovely for snorkeling and swimming and searching. I walk ankle-deep in the water looking for treasures washed in by the tide: tiny shells, pieces of coral and sea glass. I want to take a bit of the beach home. But what exactly do I hope to find and keep?…
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My Savior’s Love
I hear the piano music before I walk into sacrament meeting with my 13-year-old son. I’m wearing a hoodie, jeans and no make-up. My son, with an incision on his partially shaved head, wears hospital scrubs and pulls an IV pole. A woman with a kind face stands at the door and hands him a homemade fleece blanket. I think: this is what it feels like to be in the Twilight Zone. The familiar hymns remind me of church, but don’t erase the antiseptic smell nor the sterile, white walls of the hospital. I feel the sting of tears as we walk into a small auditorium at Primary Children’s Medical…
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Lights Along the Path
I sit on my front porch step, the brick still warm even though the sun is long gone. Oklahoma nights are neither cool nor quiet. I listen to the soundtrack of summer: cicadas (locusts) perform loud enough to drown out my reverie and then recede into the background. I am 16-years-old. I feel nostalgic and romantic as I watch the moonlight filter through the branches of the oak tree. My future husband is somewhere under this moon, I think. I picture my future: engaged, married, my first baby. My daydreams get me no further than being married with a couple of little kids. In my actual life, once I had…
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A Good Fight
Two days before Christmas, my daughters and I grab some water bottles, fill the gas tank and drive 4 hours north to pick up my granddaughter. Her 6-week old brother is in the hospital with RSV. On the drive home, one daughter reads books with my granddaughter while the other fields calls and texts for me. My dad is not doing well. He needs medical attention. We call an ambulance. My dad spends Christmas in the hospital, as does my grandson. Our celebration is muted. We make Christmas dinner, but hold off on stockings and gifts. The day after Christmas, my grandson is well enough to leave the hospital. …
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A Teacher’s Influence
When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher. My mom says I came home from kindergarten and made my younger brothers sit through rhyming words and math problems. Until the 3-year-old threw his pencil and announced he was done with school. I attended the same elementary school K-6. The place is full of memories of my brothers and me. I can still see the lockers, gym, lunchroom and a girl in the schoolyard. The school bell rang as the red rubber ball bounced into my square. A gust of hot wind whipped my ponytail. I tossed the ball into the bin and started toward the door of my…
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Simple Living this Christmas
I can’t stop thinking about Christmas. Probably because all of our children will be under our roof for an extended time. We’re spread across 3 time zones – in fact, everyone has a new address this year – so being together in person is a rare occurrence and gift enough for me. Usually, I pull out Christmas decor Thanksgiving weekend, but this year we were gone. After I unpacked, I went to the basement to get the Christmas bins. I saw partially unpacked boxes and open bins from our move. I couldn’t bring myself to pull out more clutter before I tried to organize what I had. I’ve had several…
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Grateful Hearts and Fertile Ground
We start most of our Thanksgiving celebrations with a game of flag football followed by donuts and hot chocolate. Then home to prep the meal. The side dishes that are Thanksgiving to me are my dad’s stuffing (I’m so glad I made this with him several times so I know how to do it), creamed onions (add homemade cheese sauce to pearl onions — perfect companion to turkey breast) and strawberry pretzel squares (really a dessert, but we serve it as a salad). After dinner, we each add a page to our Great Big Book of Gratitude. It’s fun to reread our blessings and remember who has been with us…
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On Sacred Ground
Anyone who knows me even a little knows two things about me. My family is my orbit and my faith in Jesus Christ is my anchor. My church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and its history are important to me. I’ve experienced most of the U.S. church history sites with my family and have lived near several of them. When we lived near St. Louis, we were 3 hours from Nauvoo, IL. We took visitors 5 times that year. It is a place I love knowing. When we lived near Salt Lake City, UT, we were close to church history sites all over the state. It’s a…
