Poor Pinkus, poor little Pinkus.

On Tuesday, I ran some errands with my mother in law. I took her clothes into the dry cleaner for her. I had to give her phone number so the dry cleaner could look up the account and after he found it he said, "Hi, Carol." I said hi back without correcting the name.

I immediately remembered going to the dry cleaner for my dad when I was young.

We had to go the the cleaners every Saturday. We drove 6.22 miles every Saturday morning to my dad's favorite cleaners, Adams Laundry and Cleaners. There was a perfectly good One Hour Martinizing about 5 blocks from my house and why we never used it, I'll never know.

I always put the laundry under my dad's name, Blair Ballard. Pretty soon, one of the guys that worked there started calling me "Blair." He thought I was Blair Ballard. I could have been. Blair is a gender neutral name. And I was too embarrassed and silly to correct him. So I was Blair Ballard to the Adams Laundry and Cleaners for several years.

One time, one of my dad's friends went to pick up my dad's laundry. He gave the name "Blair Ballard" and the guy working there wanted to know how SHE was doing. My dad's friend blew my cover and told him that I was Blair's daughter named, Jennifer. The next time I went to the cleaners and every time after, the guy always said (with great enthusiasm), "Hi, JENNIFER!" Made me feel so stupid.

I wonder how long it will take OK-Cleaners to figure out that I'm Jennifer and not Carol.

Settle Down

Settle down.

My dad used to say this to me all the time. Not in a mean, angry way. But in a calming, kind parent way. Usually I was in a panic or sobbing or ranting and he would look at me in a soothing way and say, "Settle down." He always knew that whatever it was that I was in a tither about was going to be okay. After the "settle down," we would talk and his words always made me feel better.

I can remember crying about something when I was very little and he said this to me while sitting on my bed. I can still see the sun coming through my Holly Hobbie curtains and sitting with my dad and knowing that he loved me and whatever I was upset about was going to be ok.

I remember sitting in the library parking lot with him crying over a boy that broke my heart. He said those words, "Settle down." It was going to be alright. There would be other boys.

I remember holding onto him after Mom died and sharing tears with him. Crying so hard that no sound was coming out. But, Dad could make it better.

The last time I remember him saying these words to me was when he was in the hospital and I was upset about it. I was very pregnant and worried and he simply said, "Settle down." And I did.

I realized recently that I say the same thing to my children when they get worried or upset. They come to me with their fears, so giant in their tiny little lives, yet so small in the grand scheme. What if they don't like their teacher? What if they aren't good at swimming on the Varsity team? What if they get tackled really hard at football? What if they get yelled at for forgetting their scout book? What if there's nothing good to eat? What if they lost their DSi? What if they need new school clothes? What if we have to clean the house and go to piano and football and pick up the big coat? What if we're late? What if their foot, chest, finger, back, *insert body part here* hurts?

And first I say, "Settle down."

And then I listen and try to solve.

Usually it works. They calm down and we talk and resolve the issue.

I imagine that Heavenly Father is the same. I come to Him with my fears looming so large in my life, yet tiny in eternal perspective. I cry and stomp and sob. I tell Him that I can't see how this problem is going to possibly work out. I make quite a production.

Yet He knows all and he can see the resolutions to all my worries. And He simply and quietly tells me, "Settle down. All is well. "

And He's right. Every time.

Blow! It's time for a showdown! You and me. I'm right here. Come and get me! You'll never sink this boat!

My dad had lots of opinions and words of wisdom that I remember from over the years. Some of it was good advice like always buy the heaviest head of lettuce you can find. Some of it was silly like never order a large ice cream because your taste buds will freeze half way and then you can't taste it anymore. (I googled that one and NOT TRUE!)


Today as I drove down Canton Center Road I was reminded of another piece of his advice. Never plant a Bradford Pear tree. The street I grew up on had a ton of these flowery trees lining the roads. You see them all over and they really look beautiful for the spring. Whenever I would comment on their beauty, my dad would tell me this: Communities plant them because they are cheap. They will look good for about ten years and then they get weak and fall apart. One good storm will break them down. He would say to get a Redbud or a Dogwood. Still pretty and much sturdier. When it came to plants and trees, my dad knew his stuff. He was a landscape architect by profession. He knew everything about every plant and tree there was including their Latin names. When I was at BYU and MSU and would find an unusual plant, I would mail him a leaf and he would identify it for me. I loved his plethora of knowledge on this subject.

Now when I see the Bradford Pear I get mad at the stupid weak trees. What a waste! Sometimes I think about how some people are like the Bradford Pear, unable to weather the storms. Maybe that's why my dad didn't like them. He wasn't weak and he NEVER bowed or split during the storms in his life.