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When Life Intersects Eternity
I put away leftovers from dinner while my husband loads the dishwasher. We’re talking about the art we’ll hang in the office — we’re determined to unpack all of our boxes before our kids’ visit. I keep thinking about my son. His wife is scheduled for an induction in 3 days. After nearly 9 months, Baby Boy’s arrival is so close. How does my son feel right now? I text him. It’s the night before my mom’s birthday. My son, his wife and baby and my mom (who passed away 14 years ago) are all in my thoughts as I get ready for bed. I turn the sound on my…
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The Shape of a Life
This picture draws me in. Like I am in the canoe gliding through turquoise water. I see the woman sitting in the bow. The way she holds the paddle and turns her head. What is she thinking? Is she picturing her life when the honeymoon is over? Does she wonder how she’ll feel when she leaves Idaho for the Great Lakes? Does she still feel sad her mom never met her new husband? Did she know the years ahead would not be graphed as a single rising line. Did she expect, like most of us, her life would ascend without dips or stops or fallbacks? She couldn’t foresee she would…
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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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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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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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Letting Go and Overgrown Rose Bushes
I pick up my dad’s Navy uniform. I feel the scratchy wool and see the contrast of white stars on dark blue. It’s heavier than it looks and I wonder how he managed in the Hawaiian humidity. I study a picture of him in uniform, standing on the shore in front of a Navy ship. He is looking at the camera. Full of the future. I’ve had lots of time to think about my dad and mom as my sister and I begin the work of condensing the contents of their lives into a single room. But that’s not entirely accurate because the contents will actually be spread across the…
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Ten Things I’d Share with Myself As A Younger Mom
I reflect a lot lately. I feel emotions wash over me with each wave of change, not the least of which is becoming an empty-nester. Grown and Flown. That’s what they call it. There are things I love about this stage of life. Scott and I have time together; we have a granddaughter. My kids are working toward their goals. They’ve added wonderful people to our family. I cook less; the house stays clean. My to-do list is shorter. I go to bed when I feel like it. I know how this sounds to harried, young moms with kids who are yelling on the other side of the bathroom door.…
