Love is stronger than anger...maybe?

Of course it kinda depends on why I'm angry. If someone messes with one of my five kids, I morph into a ferocious mama bear, the likes of which you can be grateful you've not experienced, and my capacity for love disappears right down the toilet.

That happened this past week. My favorite child, Seth, was the target of some unjust, unscrupulous behavior. As a young college student with limited resources, he was blatantly taken advantage of.

And I am furious!

[Aside: if you wonder how I can refer to Seth as my "favorite child," rest easy. In my ongoing study of the Book of Isaiah, one of the wonderful things I've come to understand is that I am God's favorite. Everyone is. Every single one of us. We are all God's favorite. What splendid, splendid truth! Through my awakened definition the phrase "favorite child," I can now emphatically declare that all five of my kids are my favorite.]

Back to Seth. On Wednesday, he woke up and went out to his car to find a boot on one of the wheels. A notification explained that Seth had not renewed his parking permit at his apartment. He didn't realize he needed to renew the permit, and no reminders were sent out. He immediately went to the apartment office to ask what to do. They informed him he would need to pay $70 to get the boot removed. They told him there was nothing they could do for him and that he should have kept track of when to renew his permit. 

He had class all day and into the evening, so he decided he would deal with this the next morning, but when he woke up Thursday, his car was gone! It had been impounded and towed away. This was less than 24 hours since he first learned there was a problem, and the people at the apartment office failed to mention that if he didn't pay to get the boot removed immediately, the car would be towed by the following morning. That would have been the kind, honorable thing to do, don't you think? 

And how much would it cost to get his car back? $320! Yes, you read that right. How is it even legal to take advantage of people, with ridiculously inflated fees like this? Seth works so hard at his job as a server at Chili's; $320 is a huge amount of money to him. I'm busy drafting my damning Google review of this apartment complex that obviously cares nothing for its residents, who are almost all young college students working their way though school. 

But love is stronger than anger. And it turned my attitude around just a little.

Entirely unrelated to Seth's sad experience is another story. Raging mama bear that I am, I was still so angry yesterday morning, as I drove up to my friend Emily's house to hang out with her one more time before she delivers her baby boy this Friday. The last time she had a baby was in late February, 2020. I got to hold him only once before the world shut down. By the time we felt safe doing anything other than going for social distanced walks outside, her Jeffrey was over a year old! Needless to say I am super excited to snuggle this new little guy, but that's not the point of this story.

When I walked into Emily's house yesterday, greeted at the door by both Evelyn and Jeffrey, I found Emily, nine months' pregnant, on the couch working tirelessly on a tedious project that involved cutting little pieces of sticky paper to various sizes and strategically placing them throughout a hard cover book. Say what???

Several months ago, the prequel to The Hunger Games series was released, a book called The Ballad of Songbirds and S#####. One look at the cover, and I knew I wouldn't be able to read it. Just like I can't read Harry Potter. Or watch the movies. I am an ophidiophobe . I have the most intense, irrational fear of those long, limbless reptiles than anyone I know, though my brother is a close second, and no, we have no idea why we share this phobia. I tried reading the first Harry Potter book once, but 90 pages in, I was so anxious and uncomfortable I had to stop. Sad, too, because I was also already invested in her marvelous writing and cool story.

Anyway, Emily I and talked about the Hunger Games prequel: 

"Even the cover displays one of those dang creatures! No way I could read it," I complained.

"What if I covered the "Rated S" parts? Emily suggested.

"That sounds like a ton of work. It's fine. I read 3-4 books a month as it is; I don't need to read this."

But she decided to do it anyway. As she read the book, she marked with a light pencil dot the pages that included graphic descriptions of those things; then she went back and cut little pieces of paper with sticky backs, just the right size to cover only the forbidden words, phrases, and sentences. This reminded me of what I had to do in college when I took biology and psychology. I cut pieces of construction paper to cover the pictures in the vertebra animals chapter and the desensitization chapter of my bio and psych textbooks, respectively.

But what Emily did was so much harder. It wasn't pictures she was covering (except on the front cover); it was tiny words, no more than an 11# font. So, so much work. While she was pregnant. Very pregnant. And caring for two other children. And preparing her house for a 3rd child. And running a school book fair. 

So now I can safely read this book. Here is what the new and greatly improved cover looks like:

And the spine:

In most cases, the coverings are small and look like this:

But occasionally, she had to cover almost the whole page (!), and in those cases, she left me little notes to explain things I would need to understand, minus the s#####.

So you see, this story has two distinct parts, with seemingly no connection at all. And yet, they weave together as I consider my rage over Seth's situation with his evil apartment owners, redirected almost instantly by Emily, who without even knowing it, turned my attitude to gratitude. 

Am I still mad? Yes. These people hurt my favorite Seth. But I'm also profoundly grateful to have a friend like Emily. Others might laugh at my stupid phobia, because really.....a grown woman who can't read words on a page without falling apart? It's freakin' hilarious. It helps that Emily isn't fond of these creatures either, though her fear is nowhere near as irrational as mine. 

Regardless, everyone should have a friend like Emily. I'm so thankful I do.

"It's a shoebox, but it's MY shoebox!"

The history of Isaiah's living situations is not without drama. Let's just say he has terrible luck with roommates. After dealing with an especially awful one, he came home to live with us a few years ago. He was traveling so much for his job that it made more sense to stay with us than pay rent when he was only in town half the time. Then COVID hit and the travel abruptly ended, and a few months later we moved to the Bluffdale wilderness. That was nearly two years ago, and Isaiah is more than ready to be on his own. I can't blame him. It's time. Hard to have a social life when you live with your parents. Most of Isaiah's friends live in downtown Salt Lake, and Bluffdale is even farther from downtown than Sandy was.

After several months of searching for the right place at the right price, he found a cute, studio apartment just a few blocks west of Temple Square. It's small for sure, only 300 sq. ft, but it's super nice (only a couple years old) and has everything he needs, even a nice washer and dryer! We helped him move in this past week. It's easy to move a minimalist; he barely has anything! One stop at IKEA to buy a desk and TV stand, then Target to get a few necessary household items, and he was good. 

Sadly, he only got to stay there less than a week before flying to Cleveland. He'll be there this week, then home for a few days before going to Denver. But he'll eventually get his apartment set up. He loves it already, especially the fiber internet, and I'm so happy for him. 

And yet...

I already miss him so much. I'm used to having him away, traveling for both work and pleasure, but now that he's gone permanently, my mama heart feels sad. There's so much to miss about Isaiah. He's the easiest person to live with. He asks for almost nothing but offers so much. He's my #1 source for all news and current events along with everything in history. "Isaiah, tell me in 5 minutes what's going on with________________." And he does. Because he knows everything. (He hates it when I say that, but it's almost true!) In Seth's words: "How does he know absolutely everything? I don't get it!"

I will also miss his Asian cooking. He doesn't do it often, but when he does, the food is so good. But he packed up his wok and cooking tools, and I boxed up all his Asian ingredients, and now that yummy cuisine will be created in his little kitchen all the way downtown. Shulamith and I are waiting for an invite, Isaiah.

More than his cooking, I will miss his singing. My sons all have beautiful singing voices, which is beyond shocking if you've ever heard Gerald or me sing. I can barely blend with a choir and only if I have a strong vocalist singing the part right in my ear, and Gerald has never hit a correct note in his entire life. But by some marvelous miracle, my boys sing well, and Isaiah has the loveliest tenor voice. I love hearing him sing as he goes through the course of everyday tasks.

Mostly, I'll just miss his presence daily in our home. It's a positive, inspiring presence. True, he is the smartest person I know, but more importantly, Isaiah is kind and funny and adorable. And he's already so happy in his new apartment, that all I can be is so happy for him.

In his words: "It's a shoebox, but it's MY shoebox!"