Montana Memories

This evening, as I was unloading the dishwasher, I picked up a tall red mug with white circles. On the bottom of the mug, in black, were four numbers: "2007." I cradled the mug in my hands for just a second.

Montana memories.

When we left Billings 18 months ago, we left many friends behind, but with us we took endless memories. We never intended to stay there indefinitely; always, we knew one day we would leave, move on, continue our lives in a different and (hopefully) larger city. Always we knew this. So it wasn't sad when we left; it was the opposite really. It was exactly what we wanted. My heart was in Utah long before we actually moved here, like a good two years before. Moreover, it took a good two years of plotting and planning to make a relocation of this magnitude a reality. After a year and a half here in the Salt Lake Valley, I'm certain it was the right decision. We are happy here. Very.

Still, there are times, like this past week, when the memories of Montana are right close. The red mug was an enrichment project from way back in 2007, when I served as president of the Metra Ward Relief Society. Celeste would come up with these ridiculous craft ideas, in this case ceramics. Seriously, can you visualize me trying to do ceramics?! It was a disaster waiting to happen. As always, though, either she or Lisa jumped in to rescue me by doing the project for me. And now I have this lovely mug as a forever keepsake. Who else still has her mug? Celeste? Lindsey? Lisa? Teresa? Kim? Mandy, were you even in the ward yet? I'm thinking maybe not. For a long time I kept the mug on the very top shelf of my kitchen cupboard, so it would remain safe [read: unused.] Why is it down and in use today? Probably because our dog, Kitty, has chewed up every single cup we used to own, so now we're forced to drink out of coffee mugs. I might need to take this particular one out of circulation, however. I'd be so sad if anything happened to it.

Montana memories.

Just yesterday on Facebook, someone posted a report of the 100 best places to raise children. Portland, where I was raised, was 74th. Seattle was 54th. Salt Lake City didn't make the list. Guest what city came in third? Billings, Montana! Isaiah and Eli basically grew up in Billings; they were 13 and 11, respectively, when we moved there. It was a good place.

I suppose another event that evoked this sappy display of nostalgia was that Gerald and I were asked to substitute teach our ward's Gospel Doctrine class last Sunday. Isn't it weird how such a simple thing can take us right back to an earlier time? We had only one night's notice, but as we discussed the lesson that night and the following morning before church, I might as well have been right back in Billings. As we taught the lesson, all those crazy good feelings from the time we shared that calling washed over me with vengeance. I was so there. Over a year has passed. We have different callings in our ward here; Gerald is a Ward Missionary, and I am part of the Relief Society Presidency. But for those 40 minutes last Sunday, we were Gospel Doctrine teachers once again, and oooh baby was it ever fun!

Montana memories.