A New Normal.

A month ago, my normal changed. My daily thoughts, the things I worry about, my sorrow, my tears all became about one thing; my Daddy. He passed away. He has left a giant hole in my life and the lives of our family members. When someone you love is gone from your days, and the time becomes greater since you saw them last, it is sometimes overwhelming, and you just have to stop whatever you’re doing and cry. He is, and always has been, the most wonderful man I know. His life and contribution to this world was significant. He left things, and places, and situations better than he found them. People were always touched by his love and sensitivity to them and their welfare. He worked hard all his life. He served others and made contributions that are still blessing those he loved. He wrote stories and histories and shared them with everyone. He served our country. He loves our Father in Heaven, our Savior, and has a testimony of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. His example is one that I will work the rest of my life to try to emulate.

When I heard the news, I was devastated, but not surprised. He has struggled with a heart wearing out for years. It finally said, “Enough, you’ve done enough.” He was traveling with my little brother, and his wife, and her parents when he passed. I knew that they would be sad, wondering if the trip was too much, but I believe it was a great send off. They traveled up the west coast of the United States, starting at San Fransisco where my parents met, and ended up in Victoria, Canada. While traveling home, they planned to visit my Dad’s older sister, his only living sibling. He passed away at her home. He may have been holding on to see her. My sweet Mama came home without him, and now will be there in their home without him. She is heart broken. Their 64th anniversary was the week after he passed.

The funeral was wonderful. How could it not be? When you celebrate the life of someone like my Dad, it really is a celebration! Many came to pay their respects. Many had stories about how my Daddy had blessed their life, or how much they admired him, or how something he did at the Family History Center was inspired. It was wonderful to hear stories about how great he is to others. And now we just mourn, and try to get used to life without him here.

I really feel that time spent with family is the most important way to spend time. I will miss time spent with my Dad for the rest of my life. I will miss seeing him most every Sunday for dinner. I will miss our monthly dates, and cutting his hair, and trimming his beard. I will miss him calling and my Daddy’s ring tone of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World”, playing. When I hear that song, I can’t help thinking about him.

I worry about my sweet Mama. “Is she ok?” “I better call her and check on her.” “I need to take her to lunch.” “What can I do to love her and help her?” These, and more, are all thoughts in my mind several times a day. She’s seems to be doing quite well. Amazingly well.

I am thankful for our strong family bond. I am so thankful that I know that he loves our family and that we love him. We saw him often, and tell each other all the time how much we love each other.

The times I struggle most are when I’m feeling sorry for me. I believe with all my heart that my Daddy is in a better place. He is happy and very busy doing great things and blessing others. Before he passed, he was uncomfortable and frustrated that he couldn’t do what he used to be able to do. He can do anything now. He is at peace and so are we because he lived a great life. His legacy is one of love, service, sacrifice, work, developing talents, faith in God, righteousness, and having fun while he did it all. At the very center of his life was his sweetheart, my Mama, and family. We will all be together in heaven some day.

I love him, and I’m so grateful he is my Daddy.

Slower and Steadier…or “Just Keep Swimming” …Some More!

Many years ago in the first few years of having a blog, I wrote a post about

“Slow and Steady.”

I shared the story of our son encouraging me in a overwhelmed moment to remember the story of the Tortoise and the Hare. He said, “Mom remember, slow and steady wins the race.” Trying to encourage me, he was letting me know that is is better to just move steady in the direction you want to go. Slow and steady progress is better that going so fast that you have to stop and rest because you’ve worn yourself out. Awesome advice!

I still think about that experience often and I’m grateful for that cute little guy who reminded me. I seem to have been slower and steadier, lately than I like. I am doing my best to

“just keep swimming”

like Dory. So much of the things I am accomplishing are taking all I have to give. I haven’t had much energy left to blog, or even share my thoughts much.

Honestly, I feel like I’ve done the whole blog thing wrong. I don’t have a clue if anyone reads what I write and don’t really know how to make things better. I keep reminding myself, that even if no one reads the blog, my family will someday be glad I wrote some things down. I know I still have things to say, I’m just trying to get back in the swing and start writing.

One thought that crossed my mind is that next year is the tenth blogiversary. I may just put a big effort in until then and be done. We’ll see. So my goal is to: write, and do better at getting on here consistently.

Heroes-Melissa the Donor

My friend Melissa is a hero! She is so noble. She is the kind of gal who would do anything for you. She was able to donate a kidney to one of our other friends who had sick kidneys and needed his removed. When our friend was getting sick the family got the word out that they needed a donor. Many people tried to be a donor. There are lots of things that need to be just right to be a donor. After many people went through the process they found a match, and it was Melissa! She would be the donor! She would save a dad, a brother, a son, a husband. Because of her another life is saved! 

I knew that I would not be able to donate a kidney. I’m old and I am not in good enough health. But I still wanted to do something. I wanted to make a contribution. So I made Melissa an arrangement. She loved it! I had a nice visit with her and she is doing great.

What a wonderful woman.
What a wonderful hero!

It’s a Landmark!

My cute daddy used to be a bricklayer in his younger years. He was also a genius at doing rock work. In the yard of the homes I grew up in, there were always rock walls, pathways, and fire pits. My dad is amazing!

I always wanted to have some of this rock work around the home I now live in with my sweetheart, so we have been looking for something we could do.

One thing I wanted was to get a new mailbox. The one that came with our home was not very nice looking.So we decided that was it! The project would be our mailbox!

Well, daddy is 83 years old. We can’t ask him to do this for us. We can’t even ask him to help, really, but we can ask him to supervise! So we picked a day and had him come over to supervise and help us start the rock mailbox project!

He put my little darlin to work, digging, mixing cement and preparing the sight for rocks. Next step is deciding which rocks to start with. Here is the mailbox about 1/3 of the way done. We had to leave the old mailbox on till we got to the spot where the new mailbox was going to be so the mailman would have a place to put our mail. We also decided to keep the post the same since it was in place and very secure. We have been working on it for over a month. We mix up a bag of mortar and work at it till the mortar is gone, wait a day or two, until we have time to do it again. Slow and steady! Looking good!Almost done!

We’ll finish in a day or so, but I love it! And now when I look at our mailbox I’ll think of daddy, and his awesome talent, and always be so glad to have a reminder of him at our home. It is a landmark, our landmark. It represents, gifts from God, love of family, building things, and beauty.

My Mama’s Hands!

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Today is my birthday!

I don’t really need to talk about me today.

It’s just another year, and I’m getting old. 

What I want to do is talk about this amazing woman that I met 55 years ago!

She is my Mama!  

I love her so much. Her life has always been something to admire. She is a wonderful person, and has blessed my life everyday. 

These are my mama’s hands. Imagine the work they have done, the meals they have prepared, the bandaging of ouches, the writing of talks and lessons, the holding, the all around blessing of others that they have done for 84+ years!

I love her hands!!! I love all of her!!! 

Thank you Mama, for bringing me into this world. Thank you for loving this accident prone-barefoot little girl, for trips to the hospital for stitches, for putting up with me telling on “mean” brothers, and sharing a hug to make it all better. Thank you for hours of listening at the foot of my bed, while I work through the current challenge in my life.

You are my hero! You have blessed so many, but today I’m especially grateful that you have blessed me! 

I love you Mama!

Heroes: Elizabeth Smart!

Today I watched this amazing video of Elizabeth Smart telling the story of her kidnapping.

She is so amazing!

Her example is inspirational. She has been able to rise above her horrific trauma and bless us all with her wisdom. She reminds us that we can choose what how we will react to life and the hard challenges that we face. I

She is one of my heroes!

Heroes-Camilla

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Camilla Kimball

Camilla Kimball was President Spencer W. Kimball’s wife. She was an amazing woman and one of my heroes. While she was alive she was always learning. She took classes to increase learning every year of her married life. She read lots of books. She loved reading. Did she know all the answers?

No.

Did she let her desire to know and learn make her frustrated when she didn’t know all the answers?

No.

This is what an article said about her:

Because of her family’s hospitality toward searching and studying, Sister Kimball says, “I’ve always had an inquiring mind. I’m not satisfied just to accept things. I like to follow through and study things out. I learned early to put aside those gospel questions that I couldn’t answer. I had a shelf of things I didn’t understand, but as I’ve grown older and studied and prayed and thought about each problem, one by one I’ve been able to better understand them.”

She twinkles, “I still have some questions on that shelf, but I’ve come to understand so many other things in my life that I’m willing to bide my time for the rest of the answers.”-Source

My favorite thing about Camilla was that she was “Ok” with waiting for the answers to come at the right time. I am “Ok” with this, too!!!

I’m so thankful to Sister Kimball for her example of being a constant student all of her life.

Memorial Day!

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I have so much love and gratitude for those men and women who have fought to protect our freedom.

It is amazing to me.

I have never been asked to be involved in a war, or to help fight in a conflict. I cannot imagine what that would be like, how they could be so brave.

I feel so blessed to live in a country where people who are brave like that have lived and died so that we can live our lives the way we would like to.

So many people, so much sacrifice.

All of those who lived before us and made so many contributions to the wonderful world we are blessed to live in…I am grateful to them, and for them.

Happy Memorial Day!

On Pioneers and Pilgrims!

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On this beautiful Pioneer Day I would like to share a post written by my Dad.

Here you go!

____________________________

On Pioneers and Pilgrims

“Of logs we built our houses, of shakes we made the doors, of sod we
made the chimneys, dirt we had for floors.” Joel William White wrote
that in his journal. He was my wife’s 2nd great grandfather and one of
the early pioneers. Another one stated that; “We swept our dirt floors
with a sage brush and when we were done we threw it in the fireplace
to heat our home.”

On the 24th of July, we will again be celebrating ‘Pioneer Days’ with
a parade, rodeo and fireworks; it is primarily a Utah holiday and
rightly so. That is the day, in 1847, that our first Utah pioneer
forefathers drove their covered wagons down into the Salt Lake Valley
after a thousand mile trek across the dusty plains. They had been
driven out of their homes in Illinois because of religious
persecution. They came here looking for peace and safety from the
intolerance of the, so-called, civilized areas of our then young
nation. A nation that had recently instituted a constitution that
guaranteed religious freedom.

Each year on this celebration day, do our minds ever leave the
parade, the rodeo and the fireworks long enough to contemplate what
those early pioneers went through to get here? Do we try to
understand, on that day, the 24th, the many things they had to do in
August, September and October in order to survive their first year.
They had to plant crops late in the summer so they would have food to
eat through the coming winter or they would actually starve to death?
For them, it wasn’t a matter of, well, if the corn doesn’t mature
we’ll have to run down to Albertsons and buy some. Theirs was a matter
of, if the corn doesn’t mature we won’t have any. It was a very
difficult life for them; unlike us, they had very few choices in terms
of what they could do. And when you don’t have choices, what you have
to do must be done with energy, hope and a prayer in your heart that
it will be a successful effort. One interesting way of trying to put
ourselves back then was stated by an unknown author this way; “If we
were put back in that time we would not be ourselves.” We would be put
into an entirely different dimension, a dimension not unlike the
popular TV series of several years ago, called the ‘Twilight zone’.

Some of the first settlers made a pilgrimage to this country from
Europe where they were persecuted for their religious beliefs. They,
too, struggled to prepare for their first Winter and many did not make
it. They were referred to as Pilgrims. The early Latter Day
Saints,also made a pilgrimage to the Salt Lake Valley and for the same
reason, religious persecution. They, too, arrived at an awkward time
of year and they, too, could be referred to as pilgrims.

When I was a young person, I read, “Pilgrim’s Progress”, a story about
Christian, a young man who supposedly was representing all Christians.
While venturing through life he ran into one moral obstacle after
another, each having to be overcome, before he could move on toward
his goal of eternal life. From that perspective we are all pilgrims
with the same challenges.

Those of us who have embarked on a search for our ancestral families,
are also pilgrims. We are often required to seek information from
distant lands. Like a quest, seeking old records, from  places, and
languages that we may have had no previous experience with. Searching
here and there for clues that will lead us to a name, a place, a time,
with the hopes that to find one ancestor we will be lead to another.
Do we not wander through time and to new places, even cyberspace. We
are truly pilgrims. We, too, are on a sacred quest with a prayer in
our hearts that we might weather the storms of failure until we find
success. -Emil