Seven days a week, at 4:30 in the morning, this is what my friends Trudy and Frank wake up to, an alarm which is a recording of Frank's voice. Yes, you read that right: 4:30 a.m.! When they hear this alarm, "Wake up and read your scriptures, you lazy bums!" they wake up, pull out their tablets, and read the scriptures for 30 minutes. Then Frank promptly goes to back to sleep (it is the middle of the night, after all), and Trudy gets up, exercises, eats breakfast, showers, and prepares for work.
Not gonna lie. This sounds like a total nightmare life to me. I am the girl who needs nine hours of sleep each night. Do not disturb me between 10:30 p.m. and 7:30 a.m. But they are committed to this program, and I admire their dedication. It was so great to spend time with them this past weekend; Trudy and I resumed our walking regimen as though it had never ceased. Oh how I miss the benefit of a consistent walking partner.
In order to get up at 4:30 a.m., they go to bed super early, so after they retired for the night, Gerald and I headed out to visit my friends Teresa and Randy in their new house. If laughter is good for the soul, the four of us should have some pretty healthy souls right about now. We are all in the process of raising teenagers AND, at the same time, launching our older kids into adult life, and if that's not a laughable matter, I don't know what is. Thanks Marchant-Zachers for the fun evening!
"I have my list ready," texted Jay, in preparation for our lunch therapy session Saturday. "I have mine too," I replied. Jay and I have a bond; I don't know how better to describe it. We "get" each other, and it's a friendship that transcends time, space, demographics, everything. We sat at Applebee's, our regular therapy location, for over three hours. There weren't five seconds of silence. When you haven't seen your therapist in five years, well, there's lots to say.
All this was actually superfluous to our principal reason for being in Billings: Eli and Amanda's open house to celebrate their marriage. What a joyous event that was. I had worried not many people would attend. Would anyone attend? Five years is (as Eli would say) "a minute." My worries were unwarranted. Lots and lots of nice folks showed up to say hello and congratulate Eli and Amanda. We chatted. We reminisced. We ate cake and ice cream. We lamented how grown up all our kids have become. It was free and easy, just the way we like it. Perfect. Eli and Amanda were utterly exhausted from an unbelievably busy week, but they were troopers.
And there you have it. Our road trip to Billings, complete with snowy scenery, buffalo in the road, and joyous reunions with so many, many friends.
And if you're wondering what to do at 4:30 tomorrow morning, wake up and read your scriptures, you lazy bums.
Monday, April 18, 2016
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Packing up the dreams
"Packing up the dreams God planted
In the fertile soil that is you
I can't believe the hopes He's granted
Means a chapter of your life is through."
I've always loved Michael W. Smith's song, Friends.
Change is so often bittersweet. We long for what we give up, yet we thirst for what is to come. We wave goodbye with tear-stained hands, as we reach for the promise that lies ahead.
Last Wednesday evening, I sat huddled under a blanket on Eli's bed, watching him pore through memories as he boxed up the contents of his cluttered room. He keeps his room freezing, and I am always cold in there, but that evening, I didn't mind. I wanted to be present with him. It was a moment.
We chatted about what to keep, and what to throw away. We chatted about life, and we solved world problems. We chatted about the little things, for down deep we both realize that Kurt Vonnegut spoke truth when he told us to "enjoy the little things in life, because one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."
When kids grow up to be our best friends, there is nothing better.
He didn't throw away much. Did he throw away anything? I can't remember. Eli is sentimental. I love that about him. Everything has meaning. When I couldn't even convince him to part with his middle school P.E. t-shirt, I knew the "throwing away" part of this whole process was doomed.
I want you to know that I didn't cry. Shulamith's husband Matt once said that I have a "crying issue," and he is absolutely right. But just then, though tears were close, I didn't cry. I reflected on my deep and unwavering love for this amazing kid, my little baby not so long ago, with tiny blue eyes and a smile that would melt the world. I reflected on my hopes and dreams for his future, and I silently thanked God for one very important dream that would come true in just two days.
At some point, we left many tasks done and a few undone and went out to dinner together. We sat across from each other in a restaurant as we'd done countless times before, but this time was different. An air of excitement surrounded us. Some things were about to change, yet the important things would remain the same. For that I am so grateful.
The next two days sped by so fast I hardly remember them. Somewhere in there we had professional family photos taken, a story all its own, and one I'll tell later once the pictures are available. All I know for sure is that I blinked, and suddenly I was seated next to Eli in the temple, as he prepared to be sealed to his Amanda for time and all eternity. This time, the tears flowed. They flowed freely through each word the sealer spoke, as he taught about promises and how one special promise was being realized right then for us parents. Indeed.
It was a glorious day in every way, wrapped in love from start to finish.
Tonight I once again sat in his room, this time on the floor because he took his bed to Rexburg yesterday. Very little of him is left there, though pictures of temples still line the walls, and you can be sure those will stay right where they are. This time I definitely cried. But lest this whole muse should sound way too much like a dang eulogy, let me be clear: The tears were joyous ones. Tears of joy for the incredible person Eli is, the awesome husband I know he will be, and the loving father he will one day become.
Mostly, I cried tears of happiness for him and Amanda as they leave the chapter of their lives as singles and embark upon the wild and woolly adventure that is marriage. Can't wait to see where it will lead them.
In the fertile soil that is you
I can't believe the hopes He's granted
Means a chapter of your life is through."
I've always loved Michael W. Smith's song, Friends.
Change is so often bittersweet. We long for what we give up, yet we thirst for what is to come. We wave goodbye with tear-stained hands, as we reach for the promise that lies ahead.
Last Wednesday evening, I sat huddled under a blanket on Eli's bed, watching him pore through memories as he boxed up the contents of his cluttered room. He keeps his room freezing, and I am always cold in there, but that evening, I didn't mind. I wanted to be present with him. It was a moment.
We chatted about what to keep, and what to throw away. We chatted about life, and we solved world problems. We chatted about the little things, for down deep we both realize that Kurt Vonnegut spoke truth when he told us to "enjoy the little things in life, because one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."
When kids grow up to be our best friends, there is nothing better.
He didn't throw away much. Did he throw away anything? I can't remember. Eli is sentimental. I love that about him. Everything has meaning. When I couldn't even convince him to part with his middle school P.E. t-shirt, I knew the "throwing away" part of this whole process was doomed.
I want you to know that I didn't cry. Shulamith's husband Matt once said that I have a "crying issue," and he is absolutely right. But just then, though tears were close, I didn't cry. I reflected on my deep and unwavering love for this amazing kid, my little baby not so long ago, with tiny blue eyes and a smile that would melt the world. I reflected on my hopes and dreams for his future, and I silently thanked God for one very important dream that would come true in just two days.
At some point, we left many tasks done and a few undone and went out to dinner together. We sat across from each other in a restaurant as we'd done countless times before, but this time was different. An air of excitement surrounded us. Some things were about to change, yet the important things would remain the same. For that I am so grateful.
The next two days sped by so fast I hardly remember them. Somewhere in there we had professional family photos taken, a story all its own, and one I'll tell later once the pictures are available. All I know for sure is that I blinked, and suddenly I was seated next to Eli in the temple, as he prepared to be sealed to his Amanda for time and all eternity. This time, the tears flowed. They flowed freely through each word the sealer spoke, as he taught about promises and how one special promise was being realized right then for us parents. Indeed.
It was a glorious day in every way, wrapped in love from start to finish.
Tonight I once again sat in his room, this time on the floor because he took his bed to Rexburg yesterday. Very little of him is left there, though pictures of temples still line the walls, and you can be sure those will stay right where they are. This time I definitely cried. But lest this whole muse should sound way too much like a dang eulogy, let me be clear: The tears were joyous ones. Tears of joy for the incredible person Eli is, the awesome husband I know he will be, and the loving father he will one day become.
Mostly, I cried tears of happiness for him and Amanda as they leave the chapter of their lives as singles and embark upon the wild and woolly adventure that is marriage. Can't wait to see where it will lead them.
Friday, April 1, 2016
To shrug or not to shrug?
So finding the perfect dress to wear to Eli's wedding reception has been near the top of my list of tasks since he and Amanda announced their engagement in December. I've even experienced anxiety dreams related to the hunt. In my dream, I'm in the fitting room of a department store, dozens of dresses surrounding me. On and off, on and off they go, but each time something is terribly wrong. The dress is too big, the dress is too tight, the dress is too short. I look fat, I look frumpy, I look mom-ish, I look blah!!!!
The reception is in one hour (or so it was in my dream), and the dresses going on and off over my head are wrecking my hair and makeup, but still I press on because what else can I do? Frantic and desperate, I run in and out of the fitting room, over and over, wearing only underwear (yep, dreams are dumb) to gather different sizes and styles. Finally, I wake in a cold sweat, still with no dress.
Fortunately, this hot mess ended a while ago when in a calm, quiet store, fully clothed except when I was safely in the fitting room, I found the dress. I seriously love it. It is exactly what I wanted. Well, almost exactly. Which begs the question: "To shrug or not to shrug?" And the only answer in this case is a resounding "shrug!" because the dress has no sleeves. The dictionary defines the word "shrug" in this context as "a woman's short jacket or close-fitting cardigan." In my case, I want the latter: a small, close-fitting cardigan that is barely noticeable but provides the needed sleeves.
Turns out finding the perfect shrug is even harder than finding the perfect dress. The color is a shade of navy, but not the most typical shade, so more difficult to match. I have the exact style shrug I want in black, the one I wore to Shulamith's reception, but obviously black won't do. A friend lent me a cream-colored, lace one, which I'm keeping as a backup, but I haven't given up hope of finding exactly what I want. I've searched every store in both malls, so today the plan is bridal shops. Surely in Utah, bridal shops would stock a variety of shrugs in different styles and colors, right?
So don't worry. Because I'm sure you are. I still have a week. I will find it!
To shrug or not to shrug?
SHRUG!
The reception is in one hour (or so it was in my dream), and the dresses going on and off over my head are wrecking my hair and makeup, but still I press on because what else can I do? Frantic and desperate, I run in and out of the fitting room, over and over, wearing only underwear (yep, dreams are dumb) to gather different sizes and styles. Finally, I wake in a cold sweat, still with no dress.
Fortunately, this hot mess ended a while ago when in a calm, quiet store, fully clothed except when I was safely in the fitting room, I found the dress. I seriously love it. It is exactly what I wanted. Well, almost exactly. Which begs the question: "To shrug or not to shrug?" And the only answer in this case is a resounding "shrug!" because the dress has no sleeves. The dictionary defines the word "shrug" in this context as "a woman's short jacket or close-fitting cardigan." In my case, I want the latter: a small, close-fitting cardigan that is barely noticeable but provides the needed sleeves.
Turns out finding the perfect shrug is even harder than finding the perfect dress. The color is a shade of navy, but not the most typical shade, so more difficult to match. I have the exact style shrug I want in black, the one I wore to Shulamith's reception, but obviously black won't do. A friend lent me a cream-colored, lace one, which I'm keeping as a backup, but I haven't given up hope of finding exactly what I want. I've searched every store in both malls, so today the plan is bridal shops. Surely in Utah, bridal shops would stock a variety of shrugs in different styles and colors, right?
So don't worry. Because I'm sure you are. I still have a week. I will find it!
To shrug or not to shrug?
SHRUG!
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