On Thursday, Rachel Clawson and I went to the temple to do an Endowment session. The two names that we took to do were family members that I know a little bit about. The first was Jane Dorothy Hamilton. She was my grandma's cousin and I met her several times. She ended up being quite a wealthy woman and either had no children or maybe just one. She would send a box to our family every Christmas with some toys for Anna and I and something for my parents. I remember she bought Anna her first real Cabbage Patch Kid. She was a very nice lady. I was glad we could do her work. The other person we did work for was Waneita Hudson. She was my great-grandmother's cousin. She was quite old when I knew her. She was born in 1902 and she went by the name "Neita." She and my mom shared quite a bond over African Violets. Many of the ones my mom grew came from starters that Neita gave her. Neita came to my house once and I was just searching for the picture from her visit but was unable to find it. I'll keep looking.
I'm glad I had the chance to go to the temple and bless the lives of these two women who blessed my life in many ways.
On Saturday, we were able to go to Thunder of Michigan Air Show at the Yankee Air Museum. Someone at one of the local TV stations gave Chris tickets. We let Spencer bring a friend to celebrate his birthday with him.
It was such a neat, fun time. I really loved it. We got to see lots of old planes and new planes. The Navy's Blue Angels were there also and their show was incredible. How do they fly so close together and not hit each other?? I just don't get it.
There was a plane there from WWII that my neighbor in Toledo flew and was shot down in. He was in a German POW camp for a long time before being freed and returning home. There were giant C-13os that the kids got to tour. The fighter jets were incredibly loud when they flew by. There was a stealth fighter that flew over. It was really cool.
Something about the military and soldiers and veterans brings out the patriot in me. I am proud to be an American!
We had a guest youth speaker in our ward today visiting with our high counselor. He spoke on the blessings of the temple. One of the experiences that he shared was how thankful he was for the temple because his step-father died and he knows he'll be with him again someday because he and his mom and him (too many he's and him's, sorry) were sealed together in the temple. However, he said that just because of that, he doesn't stop missing his dad and it doesn't hurt any less. I struggle with these same feelings. I am thankful for the knowledge and belief that I have that I will see, be with, hug, live with and enjoy my parents again someday.
That being said, every day is a struggle for me because I miss them so much. Everywhere around me, I am constantly remind of them. I sometimes have to block out some things I see or hear because I can't handle so much memory. I hate how much stuff they are missing. I really want to know what was sooooo important that Heavenly Father couldn't wait to have them do until they got to be with us a little longer. If it sounds like I am questioning His judgement, I am I'm not. Sometimes my heart just aches with the loss that I feel. Sometimes I want to scream out like a child, "It's not fair!" Sometimes I lose eternal perspective.
I don't think you can really understand this unless you can see the Thestrals.
Recently, I had two experiences with my children that reminded me of some small memories of my own childhood. When I was four, we lived in a townhouse that was very close to the post office. My mom was a prolific letter writer and we would often walk from our house to the post office to mail her latest letter to one of her sisters. Along the way, growing on the ground were Wild Morning Glory. My mom and I would always stop to pick them and put them on our noses. Then we would inhale to keep the flower sticking to our nose. It was just a funny little thing we did. Also, on the way to the post office were lots of wild Mulberry trees. We would pick Mulberries on the way and eat them.
Spencer is going to summer school for three weeks to give him an extra boost he needs before starting 1st grade. He really doesn't like going and it is a battle every morning to get him to get ready and get in the car. On the third or fourth day, I noticed a Mulberry tree beside the parking lot. I took Spencer over to it and showed him how we can eat the berries. At first he was leery of eating something that didn't come out of a wrapper or a drive thru, but he finally tasted them. As we walked into the school, I noticed Wild Morning Glory growing along the sidewalk and I showed him my mom's trick for holding them on your nose. He was smitten with this idea too.
Now, when I get him up in the morning to go to school he asks me if we can eat some of the berries before he goes into class. There is no more struggle about not wanting to go. Thanks, Mom, for sharing something with me that I can share with my own babies. Thanks, Lord, for giving me a mind that traps little memories and keeps them forever.
Sis. Layton gave the best sacrament talk today that I've ever heard. She talked about trials and faith. Several things she said really struck me and after she said them, I passed a note to Chris and asked him about it. She said that life is full of changes and trials and they NEVER END (such a true thing!!) She also said that she prays really hard to align her will to the will of the Father. What I wondered about that is, then do we not pray for specific things we need or want? Do we just leave it all up to the Lord? Chris wrote back on my note that he doesn't know but that he is going to do more of that kind of praying, the aligning to the Father's will kind. Then he said, "I guess being poor isn't such a bad trial; just think of what is coming next." I sat through the rest of sacrament thinking of those things we could be going through. We could be struggling to accept the loss of a child, we could be badly injured or ill, we could be struggling with a chemical dependence or a pornography addiction, we could be struggling with the death of a family member, we could have wayward children...it goes on and on. Not being able to have 2 cars right now and the other financial sacrifices we are making right now don't even compare to these things. It's still hard and it hurts sometimes but it's going to be ok. For the first time in a long time, I feel like it's going to be ok. I'm so grateful for Sis. Layton's talk!
The n key on my keyboard is broken. I apologize in advance for any spelling errors.
On Thursday, I went out to get the mail around 2:00PM. I was walking back up my driveway, thumbing through the pile, when I noticed broken glass on the ground. I thought it was really strange and so I looked up to see that the back panel window on my van was smashed to bits. The entire window was shattered and bits of the glass were falling onto the concrete driveway. I was shocked. At first I just couldn't understand who would do something like that. I assumed that someone hit it with a baseball bat or something very hard. It was a very disconcerting feeling to think that we were the target of violence and vandalism. I called the police ad the insurance company ad the process of fixing it happened very quickly and smoothly. In fact, I was oly without a car for about 12 hours total. It wasn't too much of an inconvenience. Our neighbor came over and said that he was edging the lawn next to our van and perhaps a rock flew off the edger and hit the window. He said he didn't see aythig, but it seems like a good explanation and makes me sleep easier knowing I'm not being vandalized.
This weekend is Art in the Park in Plymouth. I really like Art in the Park when I have money to spend on useless crafty things and fair food. That's not this year.
I really want to make a directory of people's talents and hobbies and abilities for our ward. For example: Tony O. does bike and computer repair, Kip K. writes resumes, John V. is an attorney, Marshall M. will sign kids physical forms for sports, Melissa F. makes really great chocolate chip cookies, etc... I think it would be really helpful to have.
I really really really really really love my sister.
My little Lizzie is nine months old today. Hard to believe! Seems like she was just born about two days ago. She is still as sweet as can be. She smiles and giggles and babbles all the time. She has gotten the hang of eating solid food as long as it isn't baby food. She will pretty much eat anything we are eating. Her favorite is dessert just like me! She is crawling like a pro. I can't believe how fast she picked it up. She only spent about two days doing the crawling prep (rocking on hands and knees, scooting backwards) and then she was off. When I put her down, she heads for the kitchen because she knows there is probably food bits on the floor she can eat. Last night during family prayer, she was zipping around between all of us and finally pulled herself up on me. She reminds me of a doll my mom had called "Baby That-A-Way." My mom bought it at a used toy convention and named it Emily because she said she always wanted a baby named Emily. (Hence, my use of the name.) It was a little doll that crawled and it's tushy wiggled back and forth as it moved. Lizzie looks just like that! Liz is still a little bitty thing. Her hands and feet still look like they are from a newborn. There isn't much pudge on her anywhere. This past week was her first time in the pool and she LOVED it. It was fun to see her so happy, splashing and playing in the water. To know Lizzie, is to love her!
Sometimes I get the giggles at inappropriate times. Usually it's at church and something will hit me in a funny way or a child will say something funny. I'll have to breathe really slowly and read the hymnal to get myself under control.
This Thursday, I had the giggles at the ultimate inappropriate time. Anna and I were sitting together waiting for our temple session to begin. She looked at me and whispered that she really needed to wash her socks. I looked down at my slippers which have a strange red streak on the side of them. I don't know where one would encounter anything that would put a red streak on their slipper in the temple, but nevertheless I have a red streak on my slipper. So I say (unable to think of the word "slipper"), "I really need to wash my booty." Just typing that made me giggle again. Anna starts giggling and then I am giggling and trying so hard not to burst out in loud laughter in the session room! All I have to read is my card so I start concentrating really hard on Jane Brewer born in Canada in 1873. My head keeps thinking "booty...booty...booty." Finally, I get myself under control. It was pretty silly.
1. Thankful that my dad liked to teach me about stuff...smelt, kites, plants, pop can heaters, etc...
2. Thankful that my dad loved my kids.
3. Thankful that my dad could touch his nose with his tongue. 4. Thankful that my dad had a never ending supply of patience, forgiveness and love 5. Thankful that my dad helped me recognize and nurture my testimony of Jesus Christ. I miss you.