Just Bury Me in a Moving Box

I can't count the number of moves I've made since I  married my children's father in January 1976. However, I am certain my children can.

It all started because I married a building contractor. You know the type - "If we build it, they will buy." Anyway, that was the theoretic plan. We would build a home, move in, and then sell it for a profit which was to be applied to the purchase of our next home. Somehow, no matter how good this sounds, it never really happened, but we managed to move around from one Hi-land Mountain Homes new-build to another for two decades (from Lake Arrowhead, CA to Running Springs, CA to Lake Arrowhead, CA to Crestline, CA to Lake Arrowhead, CA and to another home in Lake Arrowhead, CA...) I hope you get the picture.

And we weren't just accumulating and moving belongings over the years. We were accumulating and moving children.  Often, or more accurately, almost always, I was pregnant when we moved, or had a newborn. Such fun. So each move included at least one more child, until we were moving our six children from house to house.

And then we weren't. When I moved from California with the kids, the number started dropping. (we moved from Lake Arrowhead, CA to Provo, UT then to another home in Provo, UT).

Karynn was the first to bolt. I can't say I blame her. The divorce between her Dad and me had been hard on everyone, but our children took the brunt of it - as children of a divorce always do. She was ready to head off to college and didn't waste a minute doing so. And it was there she met her husband. Cedar City (home of Southern Utah University - SUU) has been her family home ever since. Her four children were born there, and there have been less than a handful of moves in their 14 years of marriage, and all within a 5-mile radius. Lucky for them! Karynn has a successful photography business, Bloomshoot Photography and continues to be an amazing mother and wife. (we had moved from Provo, UT to Holladay, UT to Cottonwood Heights, UT to another home in Cottonwood Heights, UT and then back to Lake Arrowhead, CA while Karynn was at college). 

And while I was moving around, her Dad and his wife were doing the same, so the kids always remind me to DOUBLE the number of moves I've made when calculating their individual moves.

Kurt was next. He was off to Honduras (yes, he preferred the stability of a third world country over mine). Two years later, returning with a newfound appreciation for our country, he wasted no time before heading off to Cedar City, UT to attend SUU (and meet his wife), before landing at BYU to complete his Juris Doctorate and Masters in Accounting. Since then he has traveled the world with his wife and children, visiting Europe, Guatemala, Honduras, and beyond, then spending several years on Wall Street and dedicating six months to an economic program in Chile before returning to familiar territory in Utah.  He manages his two successful online businesses Rocket Relief and Settle My Tax. We will see how long the former homebody (although he was never unadventurous) stays planted (we had moved from Lake Arrowhead, CA to Yucaipa, CA while Kurt was in Honduras).

Kollin didn't last much longer. He bounced back to California with me, after our five years in Utah, but was soon out and about as an 18-year old living on his own. Florida beckoned and he accepted the call to serve a two-year LDS mission, working with the hearing-impaired and speaking through American Sign Language. From there, he traveled to Washington state to visit Hal, Kelly, Kalen and me, where he met his soon-to-be wife on a road trip from Washington to Provo at the beginning of a school year. Since then he's bounced back to Lake Arrowhead, CA once, but has landed  firmly in Salt Lake City, UT with his wife and two girls, where he hangs his 3rd degree black belt at his own Jeff Speakman's Kenpo 5.0 studio. His classes include young children (he is the best martial arts instructor I've ever seen with children especially), teenagers, young professionals, mature adults, and he also teaches the hearing-impaired. (we had moved from Yucaipa, CA to Roslyn, WA while Kollin was in Florida). 

Kyle might have stuck around after high school, but decisions (not mine) about college funding effectively led him to leave family behind and head out on his own. He went north to Arcata and Humboldt to start his college education, then back to Southern California and UCLA to finish his degree. He supported himself through college and is quite an amazing person. Following graduation (and I mean immediately following graduation, we had barely swallowed the celebratory dinner) he was off to DC for a new job, with his girlfriend soon to follow. And he has been in DC and at the same job, ever since. I think he will move west again someday, but for now they are happy and love the DC life. They have good friends and a beautiful penthouse apartment - Kyle has been featured in an online apartment magazine for his keen decorating skills (URL coming soon!) (we had moved from Roslyn, WA to another home in Roslyn, WA to Salt Lake City, UT and then to another home in alt Lake City, UT while Kyle was in school).

Kelly made Washington state her home. She graduated from Cle Elum High School where she had discovered her passion for customer service and hospitality while also working at Suncadia Resort. She still calls Cle Elum her hometown, although she left Washington soon after graduation, having only lived there for a few years (I sobbed for two days straight when she left). She headed to Utah for school, landing in Cedar City and graduating from Southern Utah University. She met her husband in Cedar (do you see a pattern here?) and they have chosen to make their home in Cedar, with only two moves so far in their less than two year marriage, the last move landing them in a gorgeous new home that we all love to visit! Kelly is a personal trainer and photographer (URL coming soon!) :) (we had moved from Salt Lake City, UT to Albuquerque, NM (and Kalen had moved to Brazil for one year) while Kelly was in school).

Kalen, although my youngest, left the roost relatively earlier than her brothers and sisters. I cried my eyes out when she left for Brazil at the age of 16 for a year-long Rotary Exchange. She bounced around in Brazil from host family to host family before returning to Utah and the scattered reality of her Mom (and dog) living in Albuquerque, her Dad living in California, her step-dad living in Utah, and her brothers and sisters dotting the country in DC, NY, CA and UT. I am certain she felt a bit homeless. It didn't take long for her to stubbornly choose to live "on her own" and state clearly and firmly that she wouldn't be living with any of us, all at the age of 17. If she was going to move in the future, it would be her choice, not ours. So off she went from Utah, to California, and  finally to DC in February 2011. So she's in DC, where I thought I would live for a decade or more, but instead I am leaving. Life is putting me on the road again. So sad. So sad. But Kalen loves it here. She is finally launched; attending NOVA until she figures out her major, and working as a full time manager at Real People. She's found a great guy and I am feeling as if maybe I can finally let loose of the apron strings, the same strings she cut long ago and I tucked carefully into my pocket. Kalen's sense of style is flawless, and a future as a bilingual designer/buyer or personal shopper is inevitable. Brazil has stuck with her, both the couture style and the Portuguese language, but she will always be my baby. (URL coming soon!) (during Kalen's time in Brazil I moved from Salt Lake City, UT to Albuquerque, NM).

And there you have it, the saga of my many, many moves and the reactions of my children - either to plant their feet where they landed, or explore the world, but wherever they are each one has chosen to become an entrepreneur. No one's going to move them around the country, they will move when they want to. They are in control. They have no fear. They adapt. They are unlimited in their energy. And they are bright, optimistic, ethical, hardworking, grounded adults. I couldn't be prouder.

I will mention that nearly every move in my life has been because I had been recruited for a new position with a new organization, or found a new position...as a single Mom with six kids, better opportunities were difficult to turn down. I am ever grateful for the offers that came my way, but the long-term effects of all those moves are very real. Some of my children say they are grateful for the experiences, it made them who they are; some don't quite feel that way. And I agree with both positions. As for me, I have the paper-cut scars on my heart to live with, knowing that no matter how  many positive effects there might have been, there were also negative effects that linger here and there with my kids.

Life is rarely what I expect it to be. And now I am off to another adventure in Henderson, Nevada with my husband Hal (who is no longer living in SLC, but is right here with me in DC - and the official moving truck driver). My kids don't have to move with me this time and they don't have to move me either (believe me, they are cheering right now), but I will be leaving two of them in DC, and there will be tears flowing down my cheeks for days.

I've loved getting together with Kalen and Kyle. It's been good to spend time with them, especially since Kyle has been so far away for so long. What a joy he is and how proud of him I am. And Kalers, well, what can you say about your youngest child who happens to be a beautiful, willful, strong, fun, intelligent daughter? I can only say one thing. She lights up my life and I love her to pieces. I will miss them both terribly.

But as I leave (again), Kalen and I can look back on some unique segments of time when it's been just the two of us - Cle Elum in the hotel and our first rental, Salt Lake City in our rental and the condo, and then the long drive from Victorville, CA to Washington DC and the time we've spent together since she's been here. In spite of the many moves in her life (over 20 and she's only 19), we've had some pretty precious time together, something none of my other children ever really had - with the exception of those first 3 years with Karynn which I remember much better than she will.

But there's always a silver lining, and now I am looking forward to being close to more of our kids and grandkids. We won't be in the same city, but we will be within driving distance. I can go to baseball games; I can be at birthday parties!  I can attend concerts; I can enjoy my grandchildren! I can hug my kids! I can take them to Disneyland or to California beaches. And DC is a flight away...and I will visit as often as I can.

Life is so crazy, it's never calm. At least mine isn't. And now I'm back to packing. But I'm excited and can hardly wait...it's a new challenge, a new opportunity. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without all the fun memories of my past life, in all the wonderful places I've lived, with all the amazing people I've met. I have very few, if any, regrets. It hasn't been smooth, I've hurt myself and others along the way, but it's my life and I own it. And truth be known, I love it.

My kids are incredible. Patient, long-suffering, strong, valiant, honest, loyal and brilliant. They have made my life joyful, as I have bounced around from place to place. I will be eternally thankful.

And when my moving days are over, I will have the memories of friends and family to keep me going until it's time to just pack me away for good.

And when it is time...just bury me in a moving box. That's where I will feel most comfortable. And who knows, you might find a better plot for me someday... and I will already be packed. For the move.

Life As I Know It

I'm one of those people that always thinks the best of others.  I trust. I hope. I believe. This isn't always good.

But, in spite of my inclination to be positive, there are days when it's not as easy as it should be. I've had a few of those recently, and splattered throughout my life; dotted between the highs of children and grandchildren - births, weddings, graduations, missions, performances, or even those rare family vacations or amazing road trips, or when immersed in a good book or soul-touching music or conversations with good friends.

If it wasn't for the highs of faith, friends and family, those dark splotches of disappointment would have blotted my life to a dull shade of gray. And yet, it's so easy to take them for granted. The highs are often underestimated and undercelebrated.

How grateful I am for simple faith, family time, leisurely strolls and honest talk. We spend our lives racing around on the fast track , walking and talking at a rapid pace, and making time for family and faith only when it's convenient.

But then, there comes a moment of clarity as we mature. It's painful. It's hard to accept. But it's real, and it comes...trust me. And in the moment we realize, with a remorse beyond description, that somewhere along the line our focus shifted, our life spun out of control, the darkness took over and we missed the point. We let our life race by, or run over us, or drag us along. We didn't live our life, it lived us. We suddenly realize how much time we wasted.

I've done this. I am guilty. And I am sorry. Sorrier than anyone could ever know, except someone who has experienced this sudden awakening, this reality that there isn't a second chance.

Early in life, you have the opportunity to marry the right person, you have one chance to raise your children, and you have one shot to start early and build a life of  financial responsibility. Once that "one" time has past, all is not lost, but you can never go back and redo what was done, or not done.

I don't think kids realize this. I know I didn't. It was something that I just didn't think about. If anyone had asked, I would have told them that at 56 I would be happily putting my last kid through college, looking for a place to retire, and enjoying time with my grandkids. But life didn't turn out that way, and part of the fault is mine - maybe all of it - because I didn't have a real plan. I could have answered the question, but I didn't have a plan.

I do now. It's too late to go back and redo. It's too late to be less trusting and more cautious. It's too late to enjoy curling my fingers through Kurt's blond curls again, or snuggle in bed with Kollin, or make it to Kelly's parade, or spend more time reading with Kyle, or be home more for Karynn, or listen more carefully to Kalen. It's too late.

It's too late to look at the kid's Dad and say "This isn't about us, it's about the kids. We're a family, let's do this."

It's too late to not rush into a rebound marriage. It's too late. It's done. But as I told my daughter, I can only hope that my kids have learned how NOT to do things because of my mistakes, as much as they may have learned how TO act when I've made correct decisions. It's the only silver lining in this mess of a once-only life that I know. I pray that they learn from my mistakes.

But I refuse to let remorse or sorrow darken the days I have left on earth. I refuse to let disappointment in people whom I trusted send me spiraling into depression or despair. And I refuse to waste even another minute of my life on someone else's dishonesty or immorality or disloyalty.

I still believe in people. I still wake up positive and ready for a new day. I still refuse to let the dark splotches of disappointment and negativity and betrayal and failure - in others and in myself - define who I am.

Because I am happy, I am excited, and I am about to begin the next chapter in my life! And this is the life that I know and love. My life. And I claim it, I own it, I take responsibility for it - the good and the bad. And I have a plan this time, so watch out. I'm going to take charge, but I am going to hold others accountable too.

We all have a moral responsibility to be cognizant of how our lives weave into the lives of others, and to be careful, and respectful, and responsible when dealing with friends, family, coworkers, partners, colleagues, those we pass on the street, employees and employers. And those who don't realize this and live by it, will not succeed. Those who do, are not promised a smooth ride, but at least they can bounce over the bumps with head held high.

It's a new day. And my chin's up.  Bring it on.

Bundle of Joy

Our newest bundle of joy arrived last week and already she has hearts fluttering from coast to coast. Addison Claire Avarell came into this world to join her big sister, Makinlee and her parents Kurt and Ashley. What a beautiful family!

I am so lucky to be a grandma, a mom and a mom-in law. There's just nothing better!

I love being Gia. And I can hardly wait to hold this new little spirit. Thank you, God.

All My Children

Erica, Erica, Erica.

That's what my Mimi used to say every day.

No, none of us had the nickname Erica. She called my Mom by her given name "Marilyn", she called me "Jeannie", she called my sister "Melanie", and she called my brother "Jamie". None of us were Erica.

There was only one Erica in my Mimi's life, and she was a large part of it for decades. Erica, on the soap opera "All My Children" - a show she watched every weekday of her life from the first showing so very long ago. Much of that time was sitting in her living room on Pell Street in Paxton, Illinois, and watching a small black and white box with rabbit ears on top.

Once she came to live with us, after my Boppie's death when I was 13, Mimi and Mom (Marilyn) made it a daily ritual to settle onto those gold crushed velvet couches and watch Erica and her extended family and friends in living color on our console TV.

Erica lives on, literally. She is older than me (young, really) and is sharing a bed with men 30 years her junior as if that is normal. How do I know this?

I work from home. And I start the morning with a cup of tea and Good Morning America...or the Today Show...or some local news channel. And....

Sometimes the TV stays on after the morning news, Reg and Kelly, The View, etc...and guess what follows - even though the sound is almost always muted - yep - All My Children.

Personally, as opposed as I am to soap opera's, and 60 year old women climbing into bed with 30 year old men, I think a dose of All My Children might be good for all my children. It would make our "family drama" seem like a piece of cake.

It didn't really take a soap opera to realize how fortunate I am, and we all are, in spite of the drama and anger and hurt and mistakes and healing that has gone on in the past 20 years or so, it just took time and a historical perspective and a more realistic view of all the so-called perfect families around us.

So, with everything in perspective, I am grateful for our relatively sane and normal and functional family, and for all my children. In the end, we love each other, in spite of each other. And we love others. We are kind and we aren't hateful. We are good people.

And just like Erica (without the sex scenes), we are gonna keep on keepin', and we are family, no matter what other people think, no matter how tough things get, and no matter what drama enters and then exits our lives.
Thank you, Mimi.

Merry Christmas, Chicago!

As I was flying to and fro this Christmas holiday (managing to see all of my children and grandchildren), I took advantage of the many hours of flight time to ponder the blessings of my life.

First and foremost is my usually quiet and very private faith. Second, but not far behind at all, is the love that I have in my life, for and from and because of my family.

As we were approaching the Chicago-Midway airport for my transfer, I watched the highways and streets and roads below. We flew over a patchwork of homes and offices and fields, all separated and connected at the same time by some type of road.

It was 5 PM in Chicago and as I looked down from the descending flight I couldn't help but notice that there were very few cars out. The roads were covered in packed snow. The lights reflected off the crystalized ice. And people were home, as they should have been. It was Christmas Eve.

As we descended even closer to the ground, but not quite over airport property, a single vehicle moved past driveways and homes as it drove down an empty street. No other car was visible.

I leaned my head to the window, wishing I was already in New York for Christmas Eve with two of my sons and my daughter-in-law and granddaughter, and watched as the car slowed and then turned into a private drive on the side of a brightly decorated brick home (yes, we could see the Christmas lights from the air). I felt some odd connection with the driver as a warmth of gratitude filled my heart. He (or she) was home, or soon to be with family and friends. And it was Christmas Eve.

New York was only one plane and a few hours away; I could hardly wait to get there. But as we flew over the glowing homes and empty streets, I couldn't help but feel gratitude for all that I have.

And, in that moment I was grateful that he (or she) was home for Christmas Eve, and I quietly whispered against the cool pane....

Merry Christmas, Chicago.

All A-Glow

What is it about red and green and gold and sparkly tinsel that brightens our spirits?

Why do poinsettia's and pine cones and live wreaths and garlands make us feel good? What is it about cutting down a live tree to stand in a water-filled bowl in the middle of our living room that gives us a sense of everything being right in the world? Why do we look forward all year to an evening of conversation with friends while sharing eggnog and fruit cake and decorated cookies with Mannheim Steamroller playing in the background? Why do we make an event out of topping the tree with a star or angel?

And why in the world do we look forward with tingles of excitement to new matching jammies on Christmas Eve, even when we are adults?

I don't really know the answer to these questions, but I think I understand the underlying emotion that can only be described as the warm glow of the holidays - no matter what the temperature is outside.

I think it's about tradition. And tender memories. And family. And treasured friends. And hope for the future.

The phrase "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" also comes to mind, but I don't think we decorate our homes and drink eggnog because of our gratitude for Jesus. And therefore, I don't agree with those who think we have commercialized something that should have been kept sacred. I think we decorate our homes because it makes us feel connected to the past, it brings us closer in the present, and it builds memories for the future.

We also celebrate the birth of Christ, but that is separate, or at the very least, intermixed with our festive decor and clothing and food. We read from the New Testament, we sing carols in celebration of his birth, watch church performances of the nativity with wise men and animals and hay. For some, Christmas is one of two holidays that cause us to pause from hectic lives to attend Church, for others it is simply a more special day to worship, with great music to boot.

We show kindness to others and on average do more philanthropic giving during the month of December than any other time of the year.

We travel for hours and miles to be with those we love, to share this amazing season with them.

I love Christmas. I love the decorations. I love the music. I love the smells. I love the food. I love the sparkling anticipation in the eyes of children. I love the joy of giving and service. I love the warmth of candles glowing in a room lit only by the lights on the tree or a crackling fire. I love the gratitude for everything special and sacred.  I love the reason for the season.

But most of all, I love the time I have with family and friends to share the warm glow of this wonderful holiday season. It's contagious, it's rejuvenating, it's reassuring.

For some, this time of year holds none of the warmth and spirit that I feel, and I worry about them and hope their lives will continue and will get better in the coming year.

And for some this season is about the presents, but as we get older, or simply get wiser, it is not about the presents at all. It's about love and life and laughter - all coated in sugar sprinkles and hung with candy canes.

As for me, I will savor this season through about mid-January; that's how long it typically takes before I finally feel the warmth of the season fade into the day-to-day business of life outside of the Christmas season. And then, what gives me hope and allows the season's warmth to stay in my heart until next year is the knowledge that in just about 300 days, the season will return!

Merry Christmas to everyone. And a very Happy New Year in 2010 - which, by the way, is MY year, so no putting YOUR dibs on it - I already have. But in the spirit of Christmas, I suppose I can share....and for now, I am going to enjoy every garland-wrapped, tinsel-covered, jammie-clad minute left in 2009!

Mariah Carey "All I Want For Christmas Is You"

Around and Around We Go

The world isn't the only thing spinning.

Yesterday, I called Karynn and her phone had that special ring/beep that showed she was on the line, but she picked up saying she had been on the line with Kalen but had hung up as both said "That's Mom" (I had called before), about this time my boss called, but before I could catch his call Kelly called me, so I ended my call with Karynn and answered Kelly's call, but she said Karynn was calling her right then so we hung up and I called Kalen whose phone went right to voice mail so I left a message and Kelly called me saying her conversation with Karynn had ended quickly because Kalen was calling Karynn. Talk about playing telephone tag!

We laughed and laughed and I am still laughing...and maybe even a bit dizzy. I don't know what to say, except "You're it!"

Tommy Roe "Dizzy"

The Little Things

This morning I woke from a restful night's sleep (still wrapped in the warmth of my favorite quilt) to the gentle drumming of rain. Rain! I love the weather in New Mexico, but rain is not something we see a lot of, so this morning's rain was a welcome sound...and smell... and sight.

After making my bed, I shuffled my way across the room to dig through my closet for my favorite fuzzy slippers - the first time I have needed them since early 2009 - then tugged my favorite sweatshirt over my pj's and continued with a now-quicker shuffle over shiny hardwood floors and through my morning routine and into my cozy little kitchen.

A quick turn of the knob and a gas-induced flame danced from the burner of my not-so-new stove. I slid the bright red teapot over the flame and bustled around like a 1950's housewife.

After carefully slicing a bagel, I popped it into the toaster and took three steps to the left to open the refrigerator and grab two fresh eggs.

As I grabbed the nonstick frying pan, the teapot began its morning whistle and I poured steaming hot water over a ginger lemon tea bag in my Las Vegas Starbucks mug (a gift from my friend, Dee). Only a few minutes later the toasted raisin bagels popped up and I spread a thin layer of cream cheese across both while watching the hot frying pan.

Perfect eggs (fried in a dab of butter with a sprinkle of fresh garlic and green onions), a cream cheese raisin bagel, hot ginger tea, warm slippers, a comfy sweatshirt and the patter of rain.

Life doesn't get much simpler, or much better than that.

I guess maybe I would have loved being a 1950's housewife, but at least I am finally getting to do some of the little things I have never had a chance to just do and enjoy for their simplicity - the simple, little things that make me happy. The only thing that would make it better is someone to share it with. Family - a not-so-little thing.

In the end, that is what  matters - the natural things, the god-given things, the simple things. We spend so much of our lives working for things that really don't matter - fame, riches, excitement. Wouldn't it be something if the human race figured out that all those things can and should be found in the warmth of your own home, with your loved ones? It could be so simple, but we make it so hard.

Today I am especially thankful for the little things, and the not so little things. (the highlighted words are all of the simple things I enjoyed this morning, I plan to look for more simple joys all day today - maybe we all should!)

Good morning, world!

Cat Stevens "Morning Has Broken"

NSF: Insufficient Faith

It's been an ongoing battle in my life. Yes, I have had way too many NSF (insufficient funds) charges in my banking career, but I am talking about the OTHER NSF - insufficient faith.

Like many believers, I have had moments of true inspiration, even moments of revelation. And like a lot of people, I have had periods of insufficient faith as well. But just like in a bank account, new infusions of account-building or faith-building experiences can take care of the insufficient status and make us whole again. Sometimes we simply need to pay more attention, go through the checks and balances, and replenish.

I remember being about 7 months pregnant with my second child, healthy, happy, mucho preggo and taking a much-needed warm bath at the end of an exhausting day with a 16 month-old. It is a memory that is seared in my soul -one of the clearest thoughts of my life. It shot through my mind and body like a lightning bolt; the words couldn't have been clearer if someone had been looking me in the eye and speaking audibly: "You will survive if your baby dies."

What?

The thought lasted about as long as it just took me to type it, but it's effect was more lasting than paragraphs telling me the same thing might have been. It was so quick that it shook me to the core and made its undeniable mark, yet left me without any lingering fear or concern. A fleeting, yet undeniable flash of truth, a spark of eternity that didn't register at the conscious level, but touched my spirit indelibly.

Six weeks later, after three normal doctor visits with my favorite (and only) OB-GYN - Dr. C. A. Anderson - I went in for what was expected to be my last office visit before delivering my baby in early August. Dr. Anderson probed and prodded, his nurses had weighed me and taken my temperature; this was routine to me by now. I was ready to head off shopping as soon as the wonderful doc squeezed my shoulder and winked, saying, "See you in the hospital in a few days."

But shopping didn't happen that day, or for weeks to come. The doctor, about the time he should have been squeezing my shoulder, was calling for his nurse. He had spent a lot of time on my very large stomach with his stethoscope and now was asking her to schedule an amniocentesis and ultrasound. STAT.

I looked at him, knowing immediately what was going on. He had asked me how long it had been since I had felt the baby move. It had been about 24 hours - which in the last weeks of pregnancy is not normal. I had already had some concerns over the past day, concerns that I buried deep down inside of me along with the flash of truth and spark of eternity.

There was no heartbeat. He confirmed it when I asked. He was sending me to the hospital where I was supposed to deliver a healthy baby in less than two weeks, but I was not going there that day to deliver a baby. He was sending me for testing to see if the baby was alive, if possibly he had missed the heartbeat. Unfortunately, as I had been prepared for six weeks earlier, his diagnosis was correct. There was no heartbeat. The cloudy amniotic fluid  which I saw in the long needle as it was withdrawn from my huge stomach proved it. No one needed to tell me a thing that day, I had been told six weeks earlier.

Two weeks later I delivered Katrina Leanne Avarell, a perfectly formed baby girl who never took a breath. Two weeks of waiting, daily blood tests to make certain the toxicity building inside of me was not to levels that would threaten my life, hourly prayers that labor would start on its own...and finally, on the day Dr. A. had determined he would induce me, my body let go.

As difficult as it was for me to carry my baby for two weeks, knowing there was no life inside of me, I believe it was more difficult for my family and friends. They didn't know what to say. They didn't know how to react. I still looked healthy and very pregnant.

People would say things to me if I went out in public, which wasn't something I wanted to do but I did have to visit the doctor every day: "When are you due? You look like you are ready to pop! Is this your first?" etc. How could I answer them? Often I didn't, but more often rather than make them uncomfortable, I gave a quick response as if all was well and moved on quickly. Needless to say, those two weeks were mostly spent out of the public eye, in fact, I was at my parent's home in Fontana - off the mountain - to protect my privacy and also to keep me within a reasonable distance of my doctor who was in Redlands, CA.

My Dad was my strength during this time. He took me to every doctor's appointment. He was the most tender I can ever remember him being. He was a big part of why I survived. He had been wallpapering the nursery when I was at the hospital for testing. He was wallpapering when I called with the news. My Mom was there too, babysitting Karynn who was 16 months old at the time. They didn't know what to say, what to do. My Dad finished the wallpaper. My Mom cuddled Karynn. And then they drove down the mountain with Karynn to meet me at their house, where I spent the next two weeks.

You might think that this would bring a couple closer together, and there is no doubt that my children's father was as sad as I was, but I have no memory of a shared grief, no lingering emotion of two people brought closer together through a shared tragedy. As I have come to recognize more and more about most things in my past life, this was a burden that wasn't shared. But I was able to do it because of my faith in God, in myself, and in the goodness of people who genuinely cared about me and my family. I wasn't ever really alone.

My faith was stronger during that devastating time than almost any other time in my life.

Disappointment, betrayal, dishonesty, deception, and cowardly behavior, by others and by me, have been the causes for moments of insufficient faith at other times in my life, but on August 2, 1978 faith prevailed. And I survived the loss of a daughter before she was even born, just as I was told I could six weeks earlier while soaking in a bathtub and enjoying the miracle of carrying one of God's children.

I delivered Katrina while wide awake. I experienced the full spectrum of labor, but at the end there was no baby to hold. I don't know what she looked like. I was told she was dark-haired, petite and perfect. I have no doubt.

A blood clot had formed in the umbilical cord sometime in the 24 hours prior to my last doctor's appointment two weeks earlier. No reason for the blood clot was ever determined. No reason needed to be.

Dr. Anderson walked into my room on the GYN floor of the hospital a few hours after he delivered Katrina (they had been sensitive enough to not keep me on the maternity floor). I will never forget the look in his eyes. He didn't say even one word, he just squeezed my shoulder and with tears in his eyes leaned down and kissed my forehead. Then he left. But as he left I heard him say in a gruff voice to the nursing staff outside my room, "Take damn good care of my OB patient."

I shared 5 more pregnancies and delivered 4 more healthy babies with Dr. Anderson. He had also delivered Karynn in 1977. Kalen, my last, decided in her now-well-known stubborn-style to do things her way and to come early and by emergency C-section, so unfortunately Dr. A. did not deliver her. But we had many laughs together after Katrina's heart wrenching delivery as Kurt, Kollin, Kyle, Kelly and Kalen grew inside of me and then entered the world.

Katrina is buried in Redlands, CA. Her Dad dedicated the marked grave. The LDS Church is not definitive on whether Katrina's spirit ever entered her body, but any birth mother will tell you that those tiny spirits are kicking ribs long before birth. Katrina's name is in our family Bible, as we were told it should be. She is part of an eternal unit. She is one of us. She is my daughter.

Insufficient faith may have threatened my foundation at many levels through the years, but it has never touched my belief in the absolute goodness, patient tolerance and unconditional love of a heavenly Father for all of his children.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Familes can be Together Forever - Piano

Cloggers Ain't Got Nothin' On Me

I am certain my children have memories of me dancing and singing around the house, it's something I have always done - in spite of the very evident fact that I am not talented in either singing OR dancing.

However, I highly doubt that even my children who have seen me prancing around like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music would believe what I am doing these days. Every day, several times a day.

Since we are still dealing with the mouse issue, I have put out poisoned bait for the little critters in several places (well, the exterminator guy has - I am too paranoid to even think about touching anything related to a mouse). One place he put the bait is on the floor beneath some pantry shelving. This shelving is open to the kitchen and not hidden behind some lovely slatted pantry door, but I call it pantry shelving anyway. It makes me feel more high class.

Last week,  when I wandered innocently into my high class kitchen, I disturbed a little feast that was going on (exactly what we want, but exactly what I don't want to be part of). My sudden appearance, brazenly walking right into my kitchen without warning, disturbed the two mice who were gnawing on the cube of poisoned grain and off they ran - in two directions - sending me into a piercing scream as I retreated as if the place was on fire, arms waving, heart thumping, nearly tripping over my own feet. It should be funny, but it wasn't.

So now, to avoid any surprises I start stomping my feet and yelling (think: Indian Rain Dance Chanting) before I even set one foot in the kitchen. Honestly, I start stomping about 4 feet down the hall, just to give them a warning so they can scamper away without me seeing them. And I no longer look down. Mice are quiet, so if you don't see them, you rarely know they are there. (I know they are there, but I am sooo trying to be in denial so that I can sleep at night, etc.)

Anyway, back to my version of the Indian Rain Dance. It's a vision, I know. Moi - stomping, ranting, flailing and looking to the heavens every time I walk into my kitchen. It's a reality and a memory no one should have to deal with. Kind of like some people feel about clogging...

Anyway, needless to say, I am eating out a lot. The kitchen has become exhausting and scary.

But I must add that we (the exterminator - Gary - and I) are getting them; I no longer find droppings in other rooms of the house. I think we are down to these last two and if I keep dancing and screaming and stomping I have no doubt that they will skittle out of the kitchen for good....kind of like my kids did so very long ago.

The exterminator comes tomorrow. But I am gonna keep dancing anyway.

I am looking to the heavens even now in gratitude...hiyaheyalaleyheyayahayahihayaya. Stomp.

Cloggers

American Indian Chant

It's Time to Get Serious

It's time to get serious about....

FREEDOM - are we taking our freedoms so much for granted that we no longer even pay attention when their very existence is threatened? And not by terrorists, but by our own government?

MORAL JUDGEMENT and HONORABLE PRINCIPLES - are we lowering the bar for our children and grandchildren by lowering the bar for our standard of acceptance when it comes to elected officials, church leaders, community organizers? are we electing and approving poor role models for them to follow?

FINANCIAL SECURITY - are we trusting our future to someone who really isn't looking after our best interest first, after all, handling our money is how they earn their money. Sure, good management of investments is their job security but their bottom line remains their own.

FAMILY TIME - are we spending so much time making sure our kids can keep up with the neighbor kids through lessons, sports, activities, extracurricular events, tutoring and other things that take them away from home that they are not even familiar with what a HOME should be?

CHILDREARING - are we turning the responsibility of teaching and raising our children over to day care centers?

HOUSEHOLD BUDGETS - are we working so hard to balance the family budget that there isn't a family left? With both parents in the workforce, are our children losing any real sense of family and home to the necessity of a double income to buy wants not needs?

PHYSICAL CONDITION - are we eating while we work and working so many hours that we never have time to move, to exercise, to take care of our bodies? Are we sleeping enough?

SPIRITUALITY - are we taking time to say thank you, to reflect on the blessings of each day, to remember the miracles in our life? Ere we left our rooms this morning, did we think to pray? are we feeding our spirits as often as we feed our bodies?

RECREATION - are we giving ourselves time to rejuvenate? are we taking time to smell the flowers? has Calgon taken us away recently?

ENVIRONMENT - are we listening to the concerns about waste and pollution? are we recognizing that although some may take this issue too far, it is a reality we can improve? are we buying smarter, thinking green where it makes sense, disposing of garbage appropriately and recycling when we can? are we littering or do we stop to find a trash can?

MENTAL and EMOTIONAL HEALTH - are we looking for opportunities to relieve ourselves of stress? are we strengthening relationships by investing time in them? do we have date nights? do we listen? do we talk? do we find alone time? do we take vacations, if only for a one day road trip? do we let the house go for a day and do something fun instead?

THE SIMPLE LIFE - are we making choices to simply our lives? are we choosing the less damaging paths? are we seeking calm away from the chaos that has become a norm for so many?

BALANCE - are we working to balance the three-legged stool? are we finding time to serve others, to serve God and to serve ourselves? do we make time for church, work and family? can we find time for solitude, for family time, for community work?

So many areas of my life need improvement and I am working on them even now. It's too late to completely fix some of them but I am serious about changing what I still can.

I am sure I missed something, but this is a pretty good start, dontcha think?

I don't know about you but for me it's time to live life to its fullest. This list will help...

Live Your Life "T.I (feat.) Rihanna"

Family & Cookie Jars

Sometimes in life we lose focus of what's most important, we become disoriented and confused.

Sometimes those moments of confusion are fleeting and can pass by almost unnoticed and certainly without causing damage.

Other times, when the haze lingers longer it's more likely that damage will occur and when the fog finally lifts we are faced with the reality of our misstep. It was maybe even a fleeting sidestep, one that we didn't think would matter, but it took our focus off of what was important and we lost our footing on the path we were headed down and we didn't catch ourselves in time to get back on track instantly and save what was really important.

As I get older, and after moving a zillion times as an adult, it has become extremely clear to me that there are only a few things in life that really really matter. Family is right up there at the top of the very short list. If you lose your family, you have lost the second most important thing in this life, the first being your own identity, self-worth and self-respect.

Long ago a friend commented on "all the stuff" I had creatively arranged on a shelf in my kitchen (I thought it looked very artsy). He particularly mentioned an old cookie jar in the shape of a cocker spaniel and made fun of the fact I thought it was attractive to display. And he was right, it wasn't a very attractive piece to have staring out at everyone who wandered into my kitchen, but what he didn't know was that my brother had given me that cookie jar for Christmas the year before he died; it was important to me for that reason. My kids have most certainly made similar comments as they have packed and lifted and moved boxes of  "stuff" all over the western U.S. for me.

This past weekend as I was cleaning and reorganizing my office (and house), in anticipation of guests and in a complete overreaction to the Mickey-imposter who had visited last week, I took advantage of this unplanned wave of fall OCD cleaning to clear my house of "all the stuff" that didn't really have a purpose.

As I removed items and kept others, I realized that my house has unintentionally become a silent tribute to my family and friends. Some of the "stuff" didn't have a purpose at all, but I was still not going to remove it. Gifts I had received over the years, pictures of children, family and friends, furniture that belonged to my parents, needlepoint pillows created by my friends, unique gifts from my long ago wedding to the father of my children, and small items I have picked up in my travels...all of these things have become part and parcel of the world I live in every day of my life.

I am comfortable here, because I am surrounded by family and friends and favorite memories through "all that stuff". I can walk fom one room to another and feel the warmth of memories calming me, soothing me, giving me a sense of place and home, even when they are so very far away in reality.

At the end of the day, at the end of life, these are the things that matter, the people who we think of, the places we remember, the choices we made, the family we loved and the friends we made along the way...

I don't have the cookie jar anymore, but I remember exactly what it looked like and always will. And I remember Jim's face when he gave it to me, just a I remember bits and pieces of life with every member of my family and so many of my friends. I dropped the cookie jar when washing it one day. It had been cracked early in its life but I had glued it back together. When I dropped it into the sink that last time, I was multi-tasking and talking on the phone while reaching with one hand for a towel and holding the cookie jar  on my soapy palm. It slipped and before I could regroup and catch it,  it was shattered. The crack had weakened the jar to begin with and it didn't take much for it to shatter completely.

Life begins with family. Life is lived with family. Life is sustained by family. Life is endured with family. Life is learned with family. And life should be celebrated with family.

Don't we all hope for the day when we will be greeted by waiting family after our time on earth is over? I do.

There is simply nothing more important than a respect and love for self and for family, not differing opinions, not opposing views, not different lifestyles  - those are the small cracks that can leave us vulnerable.

I love my family, and I loved that cookie jar. We should be careful to focus on what's important in  life. Too many diversions can cause damage we aren't even aware of, small cracks that are vulnerable during those times when life's demands cause us to multitask or sidestep or not be quite as focused as we should be.

I am lucky to still have family and my friends - inspite of all the cracks in my life. I am lucky to have the memory of my brother, my mother, my father, and the hope of a future reunion with them at the end of my life, and of course, I am lucky to have had that ugly cracked cookie jar that I loved so much and that Jim was so happy to give.

Family and cookie jars. And friends. It's important to remember that the really important things in life aren't always perfect or pretty, sometimes they are even cracked, but those are the imperfections that make them real - just like you and me. Imperfections make us human and are often what lead us to perfection.

Jack Johnson "Cookie Jar"

Sunday Rumblings (as opposed to ramblings)

I dusted off my silver-edged scriptures this morning and gave them the start of a good run through (at least the first 20 pages or so). It's amazing how life can bring you full circle if you let it. Even when we are a little off course, there are signs and indicators all along the path showing us the way back to where we should be, to say nothing of the persistent whispers in the back of our heads.

Without becoming preachy or pretending to be a theologian, and while also admitting to a current life of self-described spirituality and faith but not overly active at any church...I simply want to say that I admire folks who are devout within their own beliefs and tolerant of others who see things differently. I am not suggesting that I want anyone to be tolerant of me; I am more hoping that we will all be more tolerant of everyone.

As I was reading earlier today, it dawned on me that there are many parallels between the trek to a new world and the many treks I have taken in my life.

More often than I want to admit, when others were looking at me as if I was completely nuts, I would pull up roots and head off to a new experience; causing upheaval to my children and inflicting all kinds of extra expenses on my already limited budget. I am still playing catch up today for all the moves and those related expenses that were incurred each time we pulled up stakes.

These moves were not something I planned, anymore than I ever planned to be a single mother of six, but they happened as a result of circumstances and choices (some which were mine, some which were not) and the reality of a life as a single mother with six children and very limited resources in time, money, support and energy. In fact, the people I thought I could count on the most, never bothered, but many that had no responsibility for me or my family whatsoever became my emotional support. It's because of them that I am here today.

As the years went by, I didn't always know why I was moving, but when I made a move it was always because I knew that I should. As I look back now, I can see turning points in my children's lives with each move, although tainted by the hardship of being the new kids (again) and wondering where we were ever going to land permanently, more often than not our moves pulled at least one of my children from harm's way.

And the few times that I did not follow those whispered promptings (when fatigue ruled and Evil won), and did not take necessary steps to change circumstances in our lives (it wasn't always a move that was needed), my children were sometimes hurt as a result.

Those are the moments I will cry over eternally, not the other moments in my life that may have been painful or downright wrong, but those times when my children were affected negatively because I simply ran out of time or energy are the moments that still keep me awake some nights. Those are the moments I have to answer for, not the petty mistakes, the uninformed decisions, the moments, days or weeks that I lacked clarity or made innocent mistakes.

I am eternally grateful for that someone who is so much greater than me (and you), who picked up my hurting child(ren)when I had failed to protect them fully, dusted them off and headed them back in the right direction; quietly, without pomp and circumstance, but with love and faith in who they were and who I was. He is the reason we are all here today.

So, in retrospect, I know that each move that I chose to make was for a reason. Only two moves in my entire life were moves I didn't want to make and would not have made had I not been overwhelmed by a threatening environment and unwarranted personal attacks. Those two moves are probably the two that were the hardest for me and for my children; in fact I believe the actions by others that lead up to those two moves affected us in ways that altered our lives not only in the short term, but for years to come and even still today and possibly eternally.

Every other move that we made was prompted by something I couldn't always identify or understand, but I knew it was real and it was important that I acted on those feelings and so I did; I followed the promptings and headed out again - with kids in tow.

And so we wandered into new territories, set up our home for as long as we were supposed to be there.There were risks, there were dangers; it was exhausting. There were those who whispered behind my back, there were those who outright denounced me, there were even those who predicted a dire future for me and my children based on my actions...but in the end, when all is said and done, my children, my life and my following of those whispered directions have prevailed.

I didn't follow the hidden whispers of men, I followed the quiet whispers of the spirit; I am extremely grateful for those whispers and moments of clarity (reached after much consideration and prayer), even if others didn't understand.

It takes a quiet faith to head off to uncharted waters against conventional wisdom and the whispered gossip of family and friends. Maybe it was because of those many, many "callings" in my young married life and the leadership positions that have always found me, that I was expected to be something I have never been, I don't know. I only know who I am and I can't be anything or anyone else.

What I also know is that I am not someone who is anxious to climb to the top of a tower and proclaim their beliefs loudly for all to hear. I will share them and whisper them, and try to live as an example of them, but I won't shout my beliefs, or force them, or deprive, degrade and denounce those who don't believe as I do. What I know too, is that a mother's intuition, and even a woman's intuition, is often spot on; and those flashes of intuition are also not typically something you shout from the rooftops.

I have never had a loud faith, mine has always been quiet; it was others who put me in the limelight and gave me responsibilities that would thrust me into the public eye. It was others who expected me to shout from a tower or share personal revelations or explain my actions to them and oddly, it was typically those who never called who had those expectations.

I don't criticize and I am not intolerant of others who believe differently than I do, I love them and accept them for who they are. Unless they present a certain threat to me or my family or the innocent's of this world, who am I to judge them? And more often than not, they are great people.But if they treat my children unfairly, or exercise unrighteous dominion, or act as if they and theirs are better - than watch out.

I have no tolerance for egos, self-righteousness, or judgmental gossip and when it affects me or my children you WILL see me climb up the tower if that's what's necessary to right a wrong. I am not excited when and if that happens, I don't enjoy it and I don't wish for it, but I can climb and shout if called upon.

I am happy in my quiet faith. I have trusted it my entire life and I still do.

There are many who have taken advantage of me over the years, many who feel they know what I am all about in spite of the fact that they never bothered to really get to know me, never even called to see how we were doing. I love them anyway and wish them the best; although there are wistful moments when I find myself wishing that they did know (and care) who I really was and am.

I am grateful to my handful of friends and family who have paused long enough and cared enough and had the patience to see beyond the rumors, the gossip, the assumptions, the judgments and taken the time to see the real me. These are the people who I can trust; these are the people who know me.

As I read the scriptures, I am reminded that the trek is not over - I have a long way to go, but at least I am on the right path. And "thus far" (as it says in the scriptures) I am obedient to those laws and principles which are eternal and universal, either by obedience or through forgiveness.

I am not perfect, there are a lot of things I can do better, or not do at all, which would help me to be more like I want to be, but I am a work in progress. And as long as I am progressing, I am heading in the right direction and I am excited about that.

And I am excited about my children. They are grown now, and they are the most amazing people I know, filled with love, compassion, tolerance, tenacity, ethics, honesty and kindness. And they are wonderful examples to me, I couldn't be more proud of them, every one of them - I don't think of one as better or less than another because of beliefs, employment, parenthood, companions, etc. - they are incredible human beings, singularly and collectively. I enjoy one-on-one time with each of them, but I love to see them together just as much - after all, they are just grown up little kids - my little kids.

At this point in my life, I am happy to say that I have no regrets except for any pain that my choices or actions may have caused for someone else.

My heart is full and as long as I am able, I plan to dance through life with joy in my heart and a smile on my face, and anyone that has the same desire is welcome to come along.

May the rumblings be with you...

Paul McCartney & WINGS "Live and Let Die"

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

This picture of Kyle doesn't leave a whole lot to say... so let me simply add how much fun I had visiting with Kyle and Erin in DC last month. They were so much fun and it was great to see their darling apartment and spend time with them when we could make it work!

We found time to dine at several of their favorite restaurants and enjoyed wandering down U Street and window shopping while we chatted.


This picture of Erin says a lot too...these two are genuine, hardworking, comfortable in their own skins and darling together.

I had so much fun! I can hardly wait to visit again! I love these two!

Eagles "Hotel California" (guitar solo)

The Wedding

A wedding happened, I know it did, I was there. However, I have very little memory of it because I was coming off of 2 1/2 weeks of training in DC and then flitting here and there to make certain things that needed to be done actually got done before the bride walked down the aisle, the guests arrived, the music played, etc. I don't remember sitting except during the ceremony...

But in spite of the flurry, this is what I will always remember: Kelly, my beautiful daughter and Logan's bride, with tears in her eyes as she looked into the mirror just before walking out for the processional, holding her bouquet in her hand and turning her head away from the mirror as she said, "I can't look at myself, because when I do I cry. It's finally real, it's me, I am in my wedding dress, I am a bride."

I will never forget that tender and genuine moment. I also remember the look on her face as she walked toward Logan on her Dad's arm, and the look on Logan's face as he watched her coming toward him. It was a tender and mind-seering moment.

Later, Logan would capture his feelings of that earlier moment with a more brazen exclamation of, "She is smokin' hot!" (He didn't look too bad himself!)

From the two families that linked arms and worked their tails off to make Kelly and Logan's special day extraordinary, to the 200 leftover popsicles that never made it to the serving table (yes, popsicles and otter pops were a late request of the groom), to the four gorgeous bridesmaids including Kalen and Karynn, Kelly's sisters, and Shaina, Kelly's darling Cle Elum friend, and also including one awesome maid of honor, Daneile, to the two white swans gliding over Lichfield Pond as the wedding and reception were going on, and finally to Kelly's huge smile as she looked into Logan's eyes during their first dance...it was a magical night.

There were glitches, there always are, but that's what makes weddings real, andbecause they love each other, and because they are both loved dearly by their families, it all came together on August 29th, 2009 for Logan and Kelly Washburn.

So, yes, a wedding happened, but more importantly, two families united to support Kelly and Logan on their wedding day, and Kelly and Logan were united in love and respect and friendship and commitment as husband and wife.

Thanks to Kelly and Logan for their patience, their love, their example, and thanks to the families of these two newlyweds for their hard work and selfless efforts to make certain this once in a lifetime event was truly magical.

And, in fact, "magic" barely even begins to describe this wedding, but the picture above says it all.

A wedding happened and I am honored to have been there.

Music to be added later....

Cake Crumbs and Bones

Bridal showers have never been my favorite thing; baby showers are in that same category. Recently, however, I have experienced two really fun showers - one for my new granddaughter Kierstyn and one for my daughter Kelly. Both were fun and we managed to keep the baby shower within the range of acceptable behavior - which kind of leaves the bridal shower just kind of hanging out there (like some of the bridal party games did), doesn't it?

Yes, it was a naughty and nice bridal shower and everything that might bring to mind - minus any Thunder Down Under or Chippendale action. In fact, the only man involved was a (very nice) 60-year old bearded and silver haired waiter/host who took very good care of us all night long.

We had fun playing games and pinning things to...well...things in our first (naughty)bridal shower game, and then watching as Kelly opened presents in the middle of the restaurant. Some of the bags contained things you would not normally open in the middle of your living room, let alone The Spotted Dog Cafe in Springdale, Utah. But she did and we enjoyed every minute. We also enjoyed our second (nice) bridal shower game at The Spotted Dog and watched Kelly's mouth fill with huge pieces of bubble gum when her answer didn't match the answer Logan had provided earlier.

The Spotted Dog made a delicious cake for Kelly, dinner was delicious and the company couldn't have been better. Kelly, Karynn (the co-hostess), Kalen, Daniele (the hostess), BreAn, Polly (Logan's darling Mom - Kelly is so lucky!), and me.

I love bridal showers with this bunch... and this one was the best; when we were ready to head home there was nothing left but laughter, cake crumbs and, erhmm, bones.

George Thorogood "Bad to the Bone"

Outlaws and Brides

It's almost ethereal sometimes; walking in the rain, watching a sunrise, taking a shower, attending a wedding (or your daughter's bridal shower).

Yep, in the middle of all of those lovely descriptions, I included taking a shower. It's one of my favorite things and today I started my morning with a shower. Then I went for my morning walk and showered again. I am about to jump on a plane from ABQ to SLC and might even wish for a quick shower when I get there, although I won't get one. I will join Kalen and BreAn and we will head out on an overnight excursion to Cedar City.

And again tonight, after driving from SLC to southern Utah, I will take a quick shower before changing clothes to drive another hour south to Springdale, UT for yet another shower - although this one is a bit different. Tonight is Kelly's bridal shower!

I love Southern Utah, I feel as if I am standing in a holy place when surrounded by the majestic mountains and red rocks of Bryce and Zion. I am completely taken aback by the endless magnificence of it all. I feel God's presence when I am in those places, similar to feelings I used to have on Heap's Peak in the San Bernardino Mountains and when I walk the shores of the Pacific at sunset. Living in New Mexico I have those awe-inspiring moments often as I drive through the Land of Enchantment's amazing landscape and terrain. And when I return from my road trip, I am usually smiling...and (to return to the subject of this blog) ready for a shower! And since I do some of my best thinking in the shower or tub it gives me ample time and quiet to retrace my drive and remember the magnificent scenery I experienced.

So showers are the mantra of the day, my old moniker of "Green Jean the Clean Machine" was apropos all those many years ago in Truckee, CA where I worked as a AAA dispatcher. (given to me by Dave-the-mechanic one very cold day when I arrived in layers of green clothing).

But tonight it's Kelly's shower, talk about ethereal. I think of Kelly as 8 years old with curly hair and the cutest smile you have ever seen. But she is now 22, and a bride-to-be in less than 30 days, so shower her we will, with love and hope and encouragement and prayers and laughter and naughty and nice gifts.

And the most ethereal moment is yet to come, when Kelly walks to Logan in her bridal gown surrounded by the nearly unmatched beauty of southern Utah. The countryside will be breathtaking, showers of tears will stain more than one cheek, but Kelly, my beautiful little Kelly with the amazing smile and tender spirit will be the one who makes us all catch our breath. Simple. Classic. Ethereal beauty. Breathtaking beauty.

Bridal showers are wonderful celebrations of a new beginning, almost as good as that hot shower at the crack of dawn on a new day, or raindrops on a warm afternoon. Even Butch and Sundance understood that and those two guys take my breath away too, but that's another blog topic!

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head/BJ Thomas (Paul Newman in Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid)

Blessings

When you look at your life and examine things that have happened as a result of your own decisions or actions, and also as a result of the actions of others, it's simply amazing although sometimes frightening.

Look at us...we live in America. We enjoy freedom. We share the joys of life, liberty and the right to pursue happiness. We have the right to worship God as we please, or not at all. We are truly a blessed people.

Is every day perfect? Do we glide through life effortlessly? Is our nation at peace? Are we completely confident in our leaders? Is the economy strong? No, no, no and no! But we are a nation of opportunity and the pieces are there if we, as a people, choose to work together and complete the puzzle that was started so many years ago by the founding fathers. I am so grateful to live in the United States of America, a nation I consider blessed.

Today I witnessed yet another blessing, another joy of life when my granddaughter, Kierstyn Avarell Jorgensen, was blessed by her Father, JR Jorgensen. What a little doll she is and what a great man he is.

And speaking of blessings, I am not a perfect person. I am what some might refer to as a lazy Mormon - others have referred to me as a reformed Mormon (which actually cracks me up) - but whatever the assigned title, I am and will always be a Mormon, lazy/reformed or not, and more importantly, I hope that I am a good person, a kind person, an honest person - because I am blessed.

Today I was reminded just how grateful I am for the influence so many people had on me just over 30 years ago as I was searching for something to tie my anchor to. I am grateful for the principles taught by many, including the LDS Church - the focus on family, the practice of daily effort to become a better person, the principles of service and sacrifice.

Today was about all of those guiding principles - the eternal truths that make us get up in the morning and face the daily grind once more; our liberty to do so, the life we dream of, our desire of happiness and comforts with our family. Today was an affirming sequence of events with family that underscored the deep-seated truths that I have held close for so many years. Those basic principles of life that give each of us our sense of being, our purpose for living, our work ethic, our desire to push through the hard times and our ability to laugh and love.

It was so fun to be with my kids (4 of them) and grandkids (4 of them) today in Cedar City. I had a wonderful day. Nothing makes me happier than to be around their fun, eager, honest, open personalities. I always learn from them and I always enjoy them.

It's been a great weekend. I was with people I love and people who love me the entire time. Together we pursued happiness and together we found it. Blessings were given and blessings were received.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness were lived. The country celebrated the 4th of July. Flags waved on every block and nearly every building. Parades marched down Main Street America. Fireworks exploded in the sky in celebration. Families gathered around bar-b-ques in backyards. Stories were retold. History was made. Laughter was shared. Babies were blessed.

This weekend I lived a blessing and I am grateful. God bless America.

Reprise Quartet "Because I Have Been Given Much"