tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79432385514658534122024-03-19T04:59:33.961-06:00The Colby FamilyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-10812320986244579312014-06-01T20:27:00.001-06:002014-06-01T20:29:19.366-06:00Life Has Been GoodHere I am 38 weeks pregnant and realizing I haven't updated my blog through-out my whole pregnancy. John and I are excited to have a baby boy join our family any day now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_3lvYHl8PTL2QZjn1DyDBgq8KGJyQg8x8Ohl9e-ABJcZ5tKBSEwcyAuYLhZorei1Ej0R1iFO6X7OKGq4O1NG8CeOYwHSW1Lds9MaF4HqB1QaCFf9H5NOun798D7fVP2ZvqmhhLrQnpQ/s1600/10155148_10100555685460614_6115045030979500116_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_3lvYHl8PTL2QZjn1DyDBgq8KGJyQg8x8Ohl9e-ABJcZ5tKBSEwcyAuYLhZorei1Ej0R1iFO6X7OKGq4O1NG8CeOYwHSW1Lds9MaF4HqB1QaCFf9H5NOun798D7fVP2ZvqmhhLrQnpQ/s1600/10155148_10100555685460614_6115045030979500116_n.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
I am fairly big, plump, and round; I'm also proud of it! This pregnancy hasn't been as kind to me as my first. However, I know all the pain and discomfort will be worth it within a short time when I get to hold our special, little guy. <br />
<br />
Madelyn is now officially a girl. I can't believe how grown she is and how much she understands. I have a feeling she is going to be an extremely helpful big sister and will love having a brother. I often find myself staring at her and smiling when she is playing or talking to me and she says, "Mommy? What?" And I respond with, "You're just so cute and I love you!" I'm proud to be her mother and raising her has truly been such a joy. <br />
<br />
Life has been good to us. We are happy. We are safe. We feel we are where we need to be. Most of all, we feel we are some of the luckiest people on the planet to have all we have, especially counting each other and the love and happiness that fills our home. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-55037714366494338492013-09-03T14:02:00.000-06:002013-09-03T14:02:27.839-06:00Quick Life UpdateSo since this blog address is jandpcolby I guess I better write an update about what's happening in our lives during the year of 2013 because we've had a lot of changes going on. I'm not sure where to even begin so I'll just make a quick list:<br />
<ul>
<li>John graduated from the U of U with his bachelor's in Operations Management</li>
<li>John finishes his government internship on Sept 9th and will officially be on the look-out for a new job</li>
<li>Madi is now talking in complete sentences</li>
<li>We have decided as a couple to go on a faith quest (we are looking into Christian faiths and have officially taken a Mormon sabbatical)</li>
<li>I am finally at peace with who I am and finally feel that I am enough because of the grace I have found in Christ.</li>
<li>We are happy and we are looking forward to what life has in store for us, and we know that even with the crazy things that happen, there will always be happiness and joy to be found.</li>
</ul>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-40891411516956160432013-07-22T03:42:00.001-06:002013-07-22T03:46:03.494-06:00I Carry Your Heart<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">"Remember 5 years ago, we couldn't bare to be more than an arms-width away from each other; everywhere we went we held hands and smiled, like we were the two luckiest people in the world?" I asked my sleepy husband, fondly remembering the love I felt the day of our wedding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">"Absolutely," he responded immediately with a wide smile and a quick laugh. Then he paused, "Do you think we are still like that today?" I began to think about it and recall our relationship during the last 5 years of our marriage. The downs and bigger downs. The moments of complete bliss of an almost surreal nature. Then the moments over the last few years and the yesterdays we have recently lived. Realizing that we don't always have to hold hands; we don't even have to sit next to each other. In essence, we don't have to be with-in an arms-width away. But, that sounded so unromantic, so typical of marriages fading out of the "honeymoon stage." How was I supposed to answer that without sounding pessimistic the night before our 5th anniversary?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">Then, I realized during my nostalgic memory search, my sweet husband had fallen asleep with his arm under my head and a slight smile on his angel face. "So," I thought, "I don't have to answer him." But then I got to thinking while I studied the face of the love of my life and couldn't help but open my laptap so I could write my thoughts before the rapture of the moment I was in left.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">John, yes, we are still like that today. Today, we are most definitely still the two luckiest people in the world, our little world. And I'm sure I feel that way even more so now than I did 5 years ago because I know you better and love you deeper, and I know my absolute adoration for you during our "honeymoon phase" will never go to waste because you have continued to be everything I adore. I love you with all that I am.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">"I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">Happy 5th</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-48773532303524733912013-07-16T23:10:00.002-06:002013-07-16T23:10:32.762-06:00My Journey to All Things Colby - Tribute #29<span style="font-size: large;">It is currently 2:00 A.M. and my mind seems to be
protesting my body's need for some rejuvenating sleep. So while I lay
and listened to my sweet husband breathe and watched as the lights on
our internet modem flickered randomly, I decided to put my non-sleeping
hours to good use and write something that has been mulling over in my
mind for years on the subject of the family I married into. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When I began to date John, I'll admit, the possibility of
his family becoming my in-laws frightened me. I was intimidated by most
people at that age but especially by them. However, regardless of my
very new relationship with John, I was counted as family. I was in the
Christmas family picture, I was given gifts from the family members, and
I was talked to like I needed to catch up on the last 21 years so I
could keep up with the next. Admittedly, it felt nice to feel involved
in his family as I had no actual connection to it at the time, but I had
major reservations in terms of the fit in regards to their
personalities and mine. Let me explain: John's family was not even
remotely like my family. In fact, they seemed to be in many ways polar
opposites.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's a quick glimpse to give you an idea of what I mean:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In John's family, when we celebrated a birthday, his 4
siblings would show up with a card or gift and would sit in their
assigned seating place at the table set much like something one sees
pinned on pin-interest, lavished with the type of food one learns how to
make in culinary school. The birthday person, whom all gathered to
celebrate, was honored with a special birthday plate and a decadent
birthday dessert of their choice (the first time I attended a birthday
celebration, the dessert was <span class="st">Crème brûlée glazed
perfectly with the help of a blow torch). Dinner was full of laughter
and jokes that were way above my head or way under the opposite end of
you-know-what-I-mean. All who were there seemed to have a good time
exchanging movie quotes, memories, and over-done puns. When dinner was
finished, most everyone got up from the table and helped with the
clean-up. Systematically picking up the dinnerware and doing whatever
was usually volunteered by them. After divvying the left-overs in
personally labeled bags, the evening was usually spent rubbing full
tummies and laughing hysterically as the family dog excitedly chased a
laser light. Hugs and kisses were exchanged and then exchanged again and
again and everyone left content they got to spend the night together.</span></span><br />
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;">Now juxtapose that orderly picture to this one:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;">In my family of 8 children and 1<span style="font-size: large;">9</span>
grandchildren, there isn't one person who is treated specifically
special because every month is filled with multiple birthdays. The
multiple birthday celebration gatherings usually begin with an email
sent to all the kids in which begins the conversation on the date and
time of the family party. Usually after about a week trying to figure
out when everyone can meet up, a pot luck sign-up sheet is sent out.
After spending about 10 minutes to gather everyone for prayer, the food
is devoured on paper plates in about three different rooms in the house
and on most surfaces: including but not limited to, tables, stools,
couches, floors, piano benches, and sometimes even toilets (yes I've
seen my nephews go to the bathroom with food in hand before). The
picture is sheer chaos and I love most every minute of it except for
when I <span style="font-size: large;">go</span> to dish up and f<span style="font-size: large;">in</span>d
the guacamole eaten up (unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence). Most
of the time clean-up is left to 4-5 of the family members while
everyone else lounges and tries to talk over the cute and rambunctious
kids who excitedly chase each other in circles. Everyone usually leaves
at different times and waves good-bye to everyone at the door (at this
point I make sure to hang around the front room so I can get a big hug
from each of my beloved nieces and nephews). </span><br />
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Two completely different pictures, right? Neither one of
them were bad, just different. So as you can see, attending John's
family outings brought me a lot of anxiety (to be fair, my family
parties brought John anxiety as well). I wasn't exactly trained in
etiquette and when I was asked to help out in the kitchen or set the
table, I was absolutely clueless. I'm sure my in-laws, at the time,
thought on more than one occasion that I had some sort of mental
retardation as they had to repeat a simple direction to me three times
and then correct me when I still got it wrong (I admit I had no idea how
to opperate a lemon juicer as well as countless other kitchen
utensils). </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;">After John and I married, I remember nights
where I would stay up trying to figure out how to connect with my
in-laws and how to actually feel like family instead of some quiet,
alien outsider. Some nights, after family gatherings, I would go home
and cry in John's arms. I felt like my inability to understand their
quick wit, movie quotes, and the inability to use my ab muscles to laugh
2-hours straight, left me feeling, well, left-out. Also, admittedly I
felt disconnected, like there was something wrong with me.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;">Then,
gradually through the years a transformation occurred; I found myself
becoming more and more like a Colby. I began to crack jokes and even
laugh at the ones that were made (even if they had some literary blow
and were meant to get a rise out of me). The infamous dog, Jack Jack,
became an obsession of mine as well (probably because I learned to laugh
more at the hysterics of John's family and their reactions to his sheer
canine stupidity). I began to relax and be able to take in the moment
and use it all up without worry. Lastly, I began to feel what it meant
to be a Colby and realized that I missed the whole picture all along and
that there was more depth underneath the decadent dinners and constant
laughter and it all had to do with the word, "love."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;">I
realized being a Colby means you'll show up when you say you will show
up; that you'll help out without being asked; that you will find joy in
all of life and find laughter in, well, just about everything (even
canine entities); that you will show respect and love for those around
you; that you will choose service over selfishness; </span><span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><span class="st" style="font-size: large;">that you will choose family first, not only because you love to be with them, but because you are proud to be one of them. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><span class="st" style="font-size: large;">I
have been blessed with a wild and wonderful family of origin, to which I
am grateful for. Now, in my adult years, I have been equally blessed
with wild and wonderful in-laws whom I adore with all my heart too. I
now find myself looking forward to seeing them and finding excuses to
drop by. Probably because I am now Colby through-in-through. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOndCYW6plAd_EybhdhJ6Ftr4quqU_nemNzdhy7CtX_YgmaJ_18usjZWqGgZHuzpjJ7WCut0PcEuYR0ALR9VS3g7bx1soB6BGLjrZCX_AqjdoPVQWw77vTZMmKmBnjULATnTddrhO4RlI/s1600/463406_947517087934_1560457263_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOndCYW6plAd_EybhdhJ6Ftr4quqU_nemNzdhy7CtX_YgmaJ_18usjZWqGgZHuzpjJ7WCut0PcEuYR0ALR9VS3g7bx1soB6BGLjrZCX_AqjdoPVQWw77vTZMmKmBnjULATnTddrhO4RlI/s400/463406_947517087934_1560457263_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><span class="st" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-57109129453686909062012-11-12T19:54:00.000-07:002012-11-12T20:10:19.821-07:00#28 - Grateful for my Sharon Bear<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br />
I had just had a
tonsillectomy with an adenoidectomy at the same time to correct some major sinus
problems I was having. I felt like I was a Frankenstein reviving from the dead
with blackish eyes and plastic stints hanging from my nose. My face ached from ear to
ear and my throat felt like it was no longer a needed body part because eating
and drinking was so hard for me to do. I believe it was Day 2 after my surgery,
John had to work and I was feeling miserable, isolated, and lonely. My mother
was out of town and all of my sisters lived far away. All of the sudden, I
heard a knock on my door and someone took the liberty of letting themselves in.
Immediately, when I heard the name “Maps” called out, my body filled with
warmth and I began to cry. It was Sharon Oler, a good college friend of mine, who had driven from Pocatello to
Centerville, Utah to check on me and see how I was doing. She brought me some
beautiful flowers and enough homemade soup for me to eat the next couple of
days. Tears were streaming down my swollen cheeks and in her soft, cute voice
she said, “Oh honey, you don’t need to cry. I just came down to check on you.”
But my tears were tears of pure gratitude, and I was so full of it that they
seeped uncontrollably. I just couldn’t believe I had a friend who loved me enough to drive
down from Pocatello to make me soup and give me flowers. Sharon sat with me for a
while and asked if there was anything else she could do for me; I had her help
me with a few things. If I remember right, she helped straighten up my room and
cleared some dishes. Then about an hour later said, “I have to go home now but
I love you and am here for you.” I asked her where she needed to be and she
said she needed to go into work. Again, it just boggled my mind that she would
go at such great lengths to show she cared for me when her schedule was so
crazy. So I cried after she left, only my tears remained grateful, not
frustrated and self-pitying because I knew when Sharon said, “I’m here for you,”
she really meant it. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another
time when I was going through a rough time, Sharon sent me a personalized
teddy-bear. Now every time I look at it, it reminds me of one of my favorite
things about Sharon: her bear hugs. Her hugs have a way of making me feel like
all is right in the world. Seriously, there is such thing as the gift of
hugging and Sharon undoubtedly has it. Her hugs make the world melt away and
make you realize you are standing on a reviving earth full of wholeness. I miss
those hugs so much.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
When I was
first married, my husband and I moved to Centerville and although we were
living in my hometown with family, I felt lonely. John was going to school and
working full time and I was trying to juggle my degree and some health problems
that made it difficult for me to work, which for someone extroverted like me made the days go by very slow as I was alone a lot. Sharon kept me from going insane. She’d
let me talk and talk and talk over the phone with her and she just listened to
me. Never judged me—just loved me. She visited me a few times and every time
she did, I didn’t want her to leave. I wished she lived down the street from
me. But alas, she was meant to be in Idaho where she met her husband and
happily settled down to start a family in Oregon. She now lives in the D.C.
area and I still wish she lived down the street from me. Perhaps one day.<br />
<br />
Sharon, thank
you so much for your friendship and for the sacrifices you made for me while I
was struggling with self-doubt and health problems. Thanks for your pep talks and for
making me feel special no matter what. I’m so happy you have found your own
happily ever after. Stay in touch with me when you have the time.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Miss you,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maps<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNhm4xty1fXFVUgPmpNvNUnMBa2DsH27aj4wFyhlODUhahTYicj7UuuhJvAKJtN_xCl4KGE6M1VLfRZI6PEc47g6da8dMYGXdF65PIELf4mVtzM_Iivuk-fOQcIsDZLT7yjSSa8f6nFU/s1600/2390_549568754584_4329_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNhm4xty1fXFVUgPmpNvNUnMBa2DsH27aj4wFyhlODUhahTYicj7UuuhJvAKJtN_xCl4KGE6M1VLfRZI6PEc47g6da8dMYGXdF65PIELf4mVtzM_Iivuk-fOQcIsDZLT7yjSSa8f6nFU/s200/2390_549568754584_4329_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvphihGJXysZMSIvmgNqavUZpDeVG0fk6r2QkVnnsw9LWJvBY2StzY0nuOfuR6lwlSCu-uc_srtwGBoaIlWX2kOJszZ4TBhfotYQiKszX_bHWCJZWvzZ8K4yCzWT2aZdSURdiZKKDDJk/s1600/31743_620840764904_8351342_ndkd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjvphihGJXysZMSIvmgNqavUZpDeVG0fk6r2QkVnnsw9LWJvBY2StzY0nuOfuR6lwlSCu-uc_srtwGBoaIlWX2kOJszZ4TBhfotYQiKszX_bHWCJZWvzZ8K4yCzWT2aZdSURdiZKKDDJk/s1600/31743_620840764904_8351342_ndkd.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-574657698369993052012-11-02T12:41:00.001-06:002012-11-02T12:59:01.803-06:00#27 The Fight Against America's Sexism<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I can't believe there are only 22
days until Thanksgiving. That went by pretty quickly. It just goes to say how
important it is to keep some sort of a journal or blog because life keeps on
going whether we record it or not. With only 4 people left to highlight for my
challenge, I hope to finish before Thanksgiving 2012 if my capabilities of
getting on the internet permits. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Many of you know that I am a
feminist to the core. That being said, I am a feminist who believes men and
women are made equal with different talents and capabilities. Eva Burrows eloquently
said, “We have to be careful in this
era of radical feminism, not to emphasize an equality of the sexes that leads
women to imitate men to prove their equality. To be equal does not mean you
have to be the same.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I love that quote because it is exactly how I feel as a stay-at-home
mother who happens to be a Mormon feminist at the same time. Why, may you ask,
is it so important I share this when we live in an age when a woman can do just
about anything? Well, because sexism is still rampant around the world and I
believe women are in some ways shown less respect now than ever before in some
of our mainstream media. Although women are cast in more powerful roles today, there
is still this perception that most women are similar to the ones in reality TV
shows like The Bachelor: fake, foolish, and feisty. They are portrayed as sex
symbols rather than symbols of intelligence, nurturance, and virtue. They make
women everywhere needlessly worry more and more about their body image and whether
or not they’re fit and fashionable; they confuse women about the reality of
beauty, real beauty, not the kind that is just skin deep and can be fixed by Botox
or with the click of a mouse. I’ve noticed even women in highly powerful
positions—doctors, FBI agents, lawyers, and so forth—have to have the sex
appeal added to their intelligence. This, I believe, is taking generations of
women in the wrong direction, and it’s sexism at its finest. It’s not saying, “Hey,
I am proud to be me without all of the cover-up, style, and glamour.” Of
course, the prevalence of pornography addictions which objectify women more and
more in these degrading, fake roles only make the cycle continue to worsen as
men bully their wives to look more like the facades they are so used to viewing,
and women grow more and more depressed because they do not look like their
media counterparts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I love how Susan Douglas puts it, “Young women today are pulled between
the message that they can do or be anything they want, that the world is their
oyster [and that] full female equality has been achieved—and, on the other
hand, there is enormous pressure to conform to this hyper-feminine ideal of
hotness and beauty.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I’ll be the first to admit that it is hard to fight against that pressure
to conform, but we must stand up to it and say, “Hey, I can be beautiful by just
being me, a healthy me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
This is why I wanted to add to my grateful list twin sisters who began
another woman’s suffrage persay by redefining beauty. Their names are Lexie Kite
and Lindsay Kite and you can find their website here: <a href="http://www.beautyredefined.net/">www.beautyredefined.net</a>. A friend
whom I deeply admire, Candace Woodbury, is on Lexie and Lindsay’s team to fight
an ever growing battle of the definition of beauty. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Before Candace told me about this movement, I had a different idea of
what beauty looked like and I felt I was not it. When John would look at me and
say, “Honey, you are so gorgeous, really you are.” I would be upset with him
because I felt like he was lying to me. The more I read Lexie and Lindsay’s blog,
the more I realized that John was right and that I am beauty redefined, and it’s
more than okay to be comfortable just being me. Which, I am still in the
process of discovering. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Anyways, thanks to all on the Beauty Redefined team, your non-profit work
is much like Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s speech at Seneca Falls. I hope and pray
it will go down in history and women can stop the fake madness and redefine
beauty, which is essentially redefining womanhood. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZbvEAGMlFXClX54FQ9iyPlY8JOyfrV93eewCIHoFa9EazN640hwu_s68aEDUtkPHnUxsiX56SFE9zRWKrLsjjCSSs4_PUc6OHf_7R-gUE_NeyYFTddBbWu1Ipt0QPVLU9u6sSzslZ78/s1600/BR-at-BYU-Sep-20112-1024x774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZbvEAGMlFXClX54FQ9iyPlY8JOyfrV93eewCIHoFa9EazN640hwu_s68aEDUtkPHnUxsiX56SFE9zRWKrLsjjCSSs4_PUc6OHf_7R-gUE_NeyYFTddBbWu1Ipt0QPVLU9u6sSzslZ78/s320/BR-at-BYU-Sep-20112-1024x774.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
*Hope you don't mind that I posted your photo to showcase your awesome group.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-20631190575093047422012-10-04T09:25:00.001-06:002012-10-04T09:25:22.040-06:00#26 My Daring, Tender Companion<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqSLHBqdJzRYLh0eudUCkK5utfOah6uoUKwl4fKlJo93iomXjZPbbbA-gXgC1-BgiKgftkkz2sGWdtvqfhIaaVfDQQMiS-eDFdkQg4mNs7V2PT17pb30ecuxd44ffSmwoYZQ-Fie49vQo/s1600/IMG_5739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqSLHBqdJzRYLh0eudUCkK5utfOah6uoUKwl4fKlJo93iomXjZPbbbA-gXgC1-BgiKgftkkz2sGWdtvqfhIaaVfDQQMiS-eDFdkQg4mNs7V2PT17pb30ecuxd44ffSmwoYZQ-Fie49vQo/s400/IMG_5739.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
So we
have had the privilege of moving into the semi-dark ages these past couple of
months (my computer crashed, my phone landed in a flood of water, the internet
we can't afford, and TV we choose not to have). I am finding myself more busy
than I have been since college without these time distracters and I love it. I
do however miss blogging. So, while I have the internet now and my laptop is
fixed, I thought I'd share a little post.</div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
This
blog post has been in my thoughts for some time now and the truth is that I am
positive I won't do it justice nor will I really be able to adequately
describe my feelings; however, despite this, I know I cannot complete my
gratitude list without it. So here I go. </div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
I think
it is cute when people post on Facebook that they are dating or are married to
the most wonderful man in the world. The day I married John, I could have
testified that there was no such love more powerful on the earth than ours, and
that I was marrying, of course, THE most wonderful man in the world. I felt the
love we shared was special and rare. It wasn't too many months after our
ceremony when I discovered almost every newly-wed couple felt that way and our
special love may have been special to us but it was not as uncommon as I
first supposed. First, I need to say I am extremely grateful others can
also have the opportunity to feel the joy of a happy marriage and be
married to the most wonderful man in the world. Second, I need to say that
it doesn't negate the fact that I feel utterly grateful to experience life
hand-in-hand with my forever sweetheart who just happens to be the most
incredible man in the world (how's that for redundancy?). ;)</div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
John has
an uncanny amount of caring in his heart. He cares deeply for everyone in his
life and even people who he has never met. And something I find incredible
about his caring is that it is 100% genuine. When he asks people how they are
or when he tries to get to know them, he does it because he honestly wants to
get to know them and is genuinely concerned about their life. This mega
Christ-like attribute of his is one of the reasons I was so attracted to him in
High School. He wasn't a façade, he was just John Colby: random, fun-loving,
giving, complimentary, happy, `what -you-see-is-what-you-get type of guy. In a
time that was extremely difficult for me, John saw past the shy, tired-of-life
sophomore girl, and befriended me. He was the only guy that ever called me to
talk and hang out and he was the only guy I prayed to God that I
could have the opportunity to date. Little did I know, my prayers would
eventually be answered almost 4 years later, and little did I know God would
grant me the blessing of not only 1 date but 1 plus a forever more.</div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
A very
succinct list of things I love about John:</div>
<ol style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="1">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;" value="1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It doesn't
matter how much I am in the wrong, he's almost always the first to
apologize for whatever "he did" to upset me. Sometimes if I am
quick enough, I can beat him to the apology.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He is willing to do anything
I ask of him (including buying sausage in the middle of the night because
I am pregnant and WANT IT NOW) or sacrifice anything on behalf of me.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He cries with me when I cry
because he feels so bad that I am hurting.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He makes me laugh and smile
on a daily basis.</span></li>
</ol>
<ol style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="1">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;" value="5"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The bright
side is the only side that really belongs to John.</span></li>
</ol>
<ol style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="1">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;" value="6"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He's not
afraid to make mistakes because he knows he will learn from them.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He has an innate ability to
bond with children and is an incredible father.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He's patient with me even if
I'm not being patient with him.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He's faithful and loyal to
both God and me.</span></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">He's all mine forever.</span></li>
</ol>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
Longsfellow said,
"The bravest are the tenderest. The loving are the
daring." John's bravery inspires me; his heart is among the most
sincere this world has ever wrought. The one truth I hold onto, the one
evidence, indeed perhaps what sometimes feels to me to be the only
evidence I have of God's existence is our marriage. If only
I could love God as a tangible being--in the same way I give my heart to
John. So often when I think of God, it's in an abstract way. When I think
of John and see the Christlike person he is, God becomes more tangible. </div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
John,
thank you for capturing life's most beloved secrets and sharing them with me.
Thank you for teaching me how to play, laugh, and lighten up. Thank you for
patiently waiting for me to find who I am without criticizing, judging, or
condemning me. Thank you for choosing to stick it out with me at times
most spouses would throw in the towel. Thank you for your constant
companionship and love. Here's to an eternity of laughter, memories, and
magical, electrifying moments. Lick the spoon off the oatmeal, I love
my daring, tender man.</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-51686390699866571642012-04-14T23:14:00.002-06:002012-04-14T23:29:05.871-06:00Faith: An Action and a Choice - #25 Tribute<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKXBSL3PISlKXLy-ItT2YayBE0BC2z7eNUu9-cOFIZamIDFGA2e2insStcVJQ413aHR6y6BGIQG6BdyyykUNGxyyUynGeNtsBFCmVivc7IowNRuMXn3WZYvJMnDj63jW5kMuQSXEcoXI/s1600/IMG_9667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKXBSL3PISlKXLy-ItT2YayBE0BC2z7eNUu9-cOFIZamIDFGA2e2insStcVJQ413aHR6y6BGIQG6BdyyykUNGxyyUynGeNtsBFCmVivc7IowNRuMXn3WZYvJMnDj63jW5kMuQSXEcoXI/s320/IMG_9667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I believe wisdom is earned. And it is usually earned by discovering truths through faith during devastating circumstances and trials. A couple of months ago I had the privilege of having a life-changing conversation with a truly wise friend who will forever be in my memory: Jessica Hunt. I have wanted to pay tribute to this amazing woman and her wise advice to me for a while now but haven't found adequate words to express my love for her and the way she has changed my life until now, at the one month anniversary of her passing. <br />
<br />
First, a little background, I had the opportunity of meeting Jess through a mutual friend in High School. We played and talked a couple of times but barely really knew each other. Luckily for me, last December our relationship began to blossom into a beautiful, close friendship. It's hard for me not to regret all the memories we could have had together, but alas, I know God brings certain angels into our lives during the exact time we need them. Jess is definitely one such angel who has an impeccable way with timing. <br />
<br />
Because my memory isn't as fresh as it was a couple of weeks ago, the following is some thoughts I wrote the night of Jessica's viewing and some of the memories we shared together as well as her wise advice that will resound within me forever:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"> Shortly after arriving to the viewing of my sweet friend, Antonella, Jessica's amazing mom approached me near the coffin where her sweet daughter lied. While embracing me, she said, "Jess always looked forward to seeing you. Thank you for making these past few months so memorable for her. She truly loved you." As the line of people wanting to give their condolences accumulated, Jess's mom sweetly announced to the people next in line, "This is one of Jess's best friends, she needs a moment with Jess." Then turning to me, Antonella whispered in her Italian accent, "Take all the time you need, Sweetheart." </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"> Hesitantly, I walked towards the coffin. Jess looked absolutely stunning with a tiara nestled into her dark, curly hair. Her face was relaxed, finally free from the burdens of the world and free from the pain she had endured for 24 years. I held her hand, something I did when I visited her in her last days, and half-wondered why she was unresponsive. Then, a memory began to play through my mind. It was my first visit with Jess. She admitted nervously, "I've always been hesitant on how to befriend you because you are just too sporty for me, and I'm too girly, so I hope we find something in common." Amazed at her forth-right honesty, which I later learned came from her Italian heritage, I made a mental note to make sure we would in fact become the closest of friends despite her obvious love for butterflies and pixies and mine for bask<span style="font-family: inherit;">etball and sports.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> As I held her limp hand, the conundrum of our lack of similarities seemed irrelevant: we both knew pain. Then I remembered two nights before she went to the hospital. It was truly one of the most touchi</span>ng experiences of my life. She was on bed rest from pressure sores; I could tell she was having a hard day. I crawled onto her bed next to her and half smiled as I made eye-contact with her. She told me as a matter of fact, "I don't have much time left." Trying to understand her I asked what she meant. She replied, "I'm going to die and I'm ready for it." Admittedly, I was frustrated with the words she was trying to convey to me. I told her that she could still live for years. Very bluntly, she responded, "Pam, God told me it is my time to go." That night we spent hours laughing, crying, and talking about life after death. As I prepared to leave, she looked at me very seriously and half whispered, "Pam, you have to remember to choose faith. It's an action and a choice. It won't just come to you, remember that." </blockquote><div style="font-family: inherit;">Indeed, I will forever remember that faith is an action and a choice because Jess is absolutely right, it doesn't just come to me. And although Jess's hand was unresponsive the last time I had the opportunity to hold it; I know her heart and spirit comes to visit me often in her angel-like way, and I know Jess was aware of her upcoming death because of her unique relationship with her Father in Heaven. My only hope is that I can develop that same faith she fought unremittingly for during her short, meaningful life. Gratefully, I know that I don't have to do it alone; perhaps, because I'm choosing to have more faith this time. I hope Jess, in all of her Italian stubbornness, won't give up on me in this endeavor to keep trekking. <br />
<br />
Jess, in the short time we had together, you taught me everything from faith to endurance to learning how to lighten up during times of high anxiety and stress. You taught me how to love freely and live life in disregard of the meaningless pressures of the world. You taught me compassion during times of insurmountable suffering. And you did all of this through your example. I will forever love you and cherish the time we had together. Until we meet again. Love you so tenderly. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><span style="color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: small;"><span dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: small;"><span dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-10041796328689762392011-12-03T01:27:00.000-07:002011-12-03T01:27:04.407-07:00Unshakeable Sisterhood - #23Well, since I can't seem to sleep, I thought I may as well get a post or two in. As most people know, I am tied for the youngest in my family. So, getting to know my two older sisters has happened mostly in my adult life since they were already moved out of the house from the time I can remember. Rachelle, Melanie, and Anne are so special to me and dear to my heart. I can't imagine losing one of them because we are so close.<br />
<br />
I have to say that I believe one of the reasons we are so close as sisters is because we have all experienced traumatic tragedies. Rachelle lost both her parents, my aunt and uncle, when she was 5-years-old. My parents adopted her. Melanie has buried two sweet babies. Both experiences have shaped and molded them into amazingly steadfast women. I can't imagine the pain and heartache both have suffered, but with mine and Anne's trials to throw in the mix, we make a strong, unshakeable sisterhood. <br />
<br />
Since I've already written tributes about Rachelle and Anne, I want to write about Mell tonight. Melanie is a spiritual colossus. Her example and testimony always help remind me to keep trekking. I want to be like Melanie when I grow up (if I ever grow up). I want to have the faith she has and her ability to share it with strength. I also want to learn how to be is organized as she is (kind of a side note), but her house always looks so perfect and organized. I have a feeling that this part of Melanie that I love so much will take decades for me to fulfill, but hey, that's all right.<br />
<br />
Melanie is an incredible mother. She has three extremely adorable kids and she is so good with each of them. Because of her loss, I believe her ability to be a very involved and loving mother was strengthened. She does not take her sweet children for granted. She's constantly giving to them and spending time with them which is so fun to watch. Another thing I love about Mell is that she is a prolific reader. She is often reading scholarly books and articles about parenting. She told me the other day on the phone how serious she took her job as a mother and how important it was for her to learn all she could. This has also inspired me to be a better mother, more focused on the actual importance of it rather than the sometimes mundane tasks. <br />
<br />
Mell, you are such a sweetheart. I value our bond and look forward to continually learning from your example while growing closer to you and your precious family. Thank-you for teaching me how to be strong in the refiner's fire. I love you dearly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqRC7ZBcsgts5iwc6r_VCwGEPD_1PzfUpRYBrVAnkbgSRmp2Lnl-y-AtwY2bR564pD5VHnU3rx-wKGxu-GgIygMfjmDdbURhaJ-2kA9Nmf9dnS7wTiiLybZq_FpnX-mJYvEeG0Waegb4/s1600/Family+Slide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqRC7ZBcsgts5iwc6r_VCwGEPD_1PzfUpRYBrVAnkbgSRmp2Lnl-y-AtwY2bR564pD5VHnU3rx-wKGxu-GgIygMfjmDdbURhaJ-2kA9Nmf9dnS7wTiiLybZq_FpnX-mJYvEeG0Waegb4/s320/Family+Slide.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-26444656170110523162011-11-29T16:39:00.000-07:002011-11-29T16:39:59.524-07:00A Legacy of Faith - #22Death. To some it is scary. To others, just another part of life. My view on the sometimes too taboo subject changed in late June, when I had the honor of being with my Grandmother as she passed. Although most deaths are not as peaceful as my dear grandmother's, I know that there is peace found after the passing and there is a life outside of this mortality.<br />
<br />
Let me explain by first describing my beautiful grandma. Grandma Chapman has got to be one of the most stubborn in my family. She was always determined to support herself and do everything the way she wanted it done. She took pride in her independence and her ability to be successful. My grandma was born with the type of energy one needs to run a marathon every day or raise and support 11 children as a single working mother (which she successfully did). My grandma would go and go and go even until her early 70's. She loved to work and she was good at it. Sadly, several years ago, she had a stroke and began dealing with a 1-minute brain. I know it frustrated her because she used to say to me, "I'm nuts, aren't I?" Like part of her knew what was going on but she had no control over it. This process was sometimes extremely hard to watch because her mental sharpness was one of the things my grandma took pride in. Along with the mental problems came the mobility problems. She couldn't do things by herself which caused her a lot of frustration. Even with all of these ailments, my sweet grandma refused to die. There were several times where we had thought she wasn't going to recover from a fall, infection, or a serious surgery, but her stubborn perseverance kept her alive. Personally, I think she didn't want to leave all of her family behind, and she still had so much energy left to give.<br />
<br />
Well, with the deeply saddening passing of my grandmother's daughter and grandson, I watched as her resilience to death began to change. Once, in her near-coma state, she said out loud, "Who is the lady in white over there?" She pointed to the corner. My mom being in the room at the time said she had felt the presence of her sister and knew she was there watching over my grandma. It wouldn't be long after that when my grandma passed. It was like she realized she had family waiting for her and she made the decision to go. A few hours before her passing, I quietly sat with her and held her hand. At that point, I was in utter denial of her health status. She hadn't talked or communicated for several hours, so I thought I could see if I could talk with her. I said, "Grandma, I love you." I received no reply. Then hesitantly, I said, "Grandma, will you say hello to Dad for me?" Almost immediately she squeezed my hand with strength. Then that was the last sign of communication I had had with her, and it leaves with me today the thought that she would deliver the message because she would see him. <br />
<br />
I write all of this because my grandma has taught me the lesson of letting go of fear. She has also taught me to stay true to the gospel because it's what brings happiness. I remember one time eating dinner with her. She had a one-minute memory so having a normal conversation like we used to have was no longer available. Still, curious of my grandmother's utter conviction to her beliefs, I asked, "Grandma, how do you know the church is true." She replied,"Well that's easy. You just follow the principles and you are happy." For her, it was kind of like a no-brainer, and I have the feeling that was the case for most of her life.<br />
<br />
I have been left to ponder my sweet grand-mother's example as well as the lesson she had taught me before she passed. I deeply miss my grandmother. I miss the memories of learning from her and listening to her stories; however, I know that there is not an end to them. There will be more memories to be made. When I am dying, I hope and pray my children and grand-children will be able to shout, "Say hello to Grandma Chapman and Grandpa Major for me." And I hope they will know that I will deliver the message because I too carry my sweet grandmother's legacy of faith and the truth of the afterlife. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8V-ohlyhYc6I9mNGVKvPV8lV_Gn8S-lF2Z6h7-cHml4QY_ipQY07THU_Wpr4_YYvK5c8NBbHp4t_lq-reHSh7ft8Yzmfilsr_JCMtC8qKLDMiYLhO6VfVSTLJKtaE7nBNolYHM6ucprQ/s1600/264925_109010082526287_100002518886660_82514_8237126_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8V-ohlyhYc6I9mNGVKvPV8lV_Gn8S-lF2Z6h7-cHml4QY_ipQY07THU_Wpr4_YYvK5c8NBbHp4t_lq-reHSh7ft8Yzmfilsr_JCMtC8qKLDMiYLhO6VfVSTLJKtaE7nBNolYHM6ucprQ/s320/264925_109010082526287_100002518886660_82514_8237126_n.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-43584411382324894162011-11-28T13:49:00.002-07:002011-11-28T13:55:31.694-07:00My Gorgeous Friend La Belle - #21Today I woke up realizing my Ursula cold has taken away my voice. Don't worry, I haven't "underestimated the importance of body language" or the voice that comes from blog writing thanks to a very endearing and encouraging friend of mine. This morning she text messaged me, "Um, can I just say I love, love, love your grateful blog! Keep writing in it!! I'm learning so much!!" After reading this, I felt a bit of energy zing into my body so that I could write about this wonderful friend of mine.<br />
<br />
Back on the subject of Disney movies, if I had to describe Heather in terms of Disney Princesses, I would have to say she is Belle. I googled Belle's personality and decided to paste it on here because it is so perfectly fitting for Heather:<br />
<br />
Belle has gained a significant amount of intelligence over the years due to her love of books, providing her with a wide vocabulary, active imagination, and open mind. She is very confident and outspoken in her opinions, and seldom likes being told what to do. Belle is somewhat a women's-libber for her time, and refuses to be mistreated, undermined, demeaned or controlled by any man. Belle realizes that having dreams is great, but sometimes you need to look beyond them and find what you're truly looking for. Belle is quite witty, and is able to use this trait to her advantage. Belle has a strong sense of character, and is able to use this trait in a variety of ways, and although Belle is quite ignorant of her own beauty, she does somewhat manage to use her feminine charm to her advantange.<br />
(http://disney.wikia.com/wiki/Belle)<br />
<br />
One of the first times I talked to Heather at BYU-Idaho, she said to me quite bluntly, "I can tell we are going to be best friends, friends for life!" I stood there thinking, "I barely even know this girl. What do I say to that?" So I just said, "thanks," and at that point I don't think I realized how grateful I really would be for the truthfulness of her future prediction. Now, although I feel special that I am one of Heather's close friends, I do have to mention that I am one of many. You know how the whole castle falls in love with Belle? Well, that is very much the same with Heather. Those who take the time to get to know her, end up absolutely loving and adoring her. And, I might add, end up being changed. <br />
<br />
I know without a doubt that Heather came into my life during the time I needed her most. I had just been heartbroken and with Heather's very complimentary and encouraging ways, I was able to realize my potential and look forward with faith. Seriously, Heather has an uncanny way of helping people see what they are gifted with and then encouraging them to excel in that gift. During down days, I remember her saying things like, "you're THE Maps Major! Nothing can get you down." She had a way of making me feel special. During those days in college, Heather helped me realize that I needed to choose success because it wasn't going to come to me by feeling sorry for myself. Such is the reason I continued to get involved in the service program at BYU-Idaho.<br />
<br />
I have to mention that like Belle, Heather is one of those people who aren't afraid to take a hold of adventures and dreams and make them part of their lives. When Heather gets an idea in her mind, there is nothing that can get in her way--except maybe God. When Heather graduated from BYU-Idaho, she decided she was going to move to Washington D.C. For a girl who grew up in the "provincial town" of Grantsville, this was quite the move. But she did it and has become quite successful there; she has worked her way up to Orin Hatch's secretary. Now, Heather is studying the GMAT and is preparing to get a grad degree, and I have no doubt she will do so with the old addage of flying colors.<br />
<br />
One of the more tragic life-changing experiences Heather went through about two years ago was the passing of her dear Father who had courageously battled Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Watching Heather's ability to keep pressing forward as an example and pillar to her 8 siblings has truly been remarkable. Under insurmountable stress and pressure, she continues to give to her mother and siblings and continues to support them the best she knows how. During her supportive role, Heather has been trying to work through her own grieving process as well as trying to figure out who she is now. I have talked to her on numerous occasions and I often hang up feeling baffled at how positive she is during her grief. She often tells me exactly how she feels but spins it into what she is doing to overcome it and how much she is learning from it. Even on her down days, she never fails to recognize God's hand in her life and the angels that are watching over her. I hope one day she will write a book on how she worked through her grief because she does it so gracefully. <br />
<br />
Heather, I love you girl! Thank you so much for all the inspiring and encouraging moments. Thank-you for pushing me to be better and brighter. Thank-you for all the fun and wonderful memories you made with me during college. I hope you know that you are always the same amazing Heather who I have grown to love in life. It's been incredible to watch as you have grown colorful wings these past couple years. Remember, wanting to change back to who you used to be before you experienced tragedy would be like a butterfly trying to re-cocoon to turn back into a caterpillar. This is something you actually inadvertently taught me years ago. : )<br />
<br />
P.S. thanks for nudging me this morning to get going. Love you dearly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Heather with M: <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud5Kc6I1wciD8Ocp52DExp9NwTkOMo9cX3IRHErS1V6r80xIIsjxWL1c_1LDQU25-kjD955nm7pd099bbf3vt72ElUmcg_gGrY90h8OWllc4tge9onQeCuWkYY9hiIbyrbjj8nDLydlw/s1600/IMG_7071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud5Kc6I1wciD8Ocp52DExp9NwTkOMo9cX3IRHErS1V6r80xIIsjxWL1c_1LDQU25-kjD955nm7pd099bbf3vt72ElUmcg_gGrY90h8OWllc4tge9onQeCuWkYY9hiIbyrbjj8nDLydlw/s400/IMG_7071.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZh0e9AyhNqX-_m0E6XCEfV_hvHkL-C2Gao0IWGAbXZLxNrmkTTvQG3Ri91UI-SwyVS9C1mGyEEZex7yHtE-2H1bB9INzI7OU3JqOZ-mBpk-fVPkIYdO_JfF4K8qU8W_MCmTfbPqOVt94/s1600/n640454807_1408152_7137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZh0e9AyhNqX-_m0E6XCEfV_hvHkL-C2Gao0IWGAbXZLxNrmkTTvQG3Ri91UI-SwyVS9C1mGyEEZex7yHtE-2H1bB9INzI7OU3JqOZ-mBpk-fVPkIYdO_JfF4K8qU8W_MCmTfbPqOVt94/s320/n640454807_1408152_7137.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiscoOKt1afkR-GhthRSxVoFOZudqqtKnN44lEtKIvGtsF1eCJbZQmBVxj-TfuDXNPpFHr-4IyDD7DjBjLflPsrBANL9rhI2cKz8vVpi_X2UAmndk-5LUiT_zS1RnAyx4xFHZrTRMq5hw/s1600/n193306806_31211415_7342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiscoOKt1afkR-GhthRSxVoFOZudqqtKnN44lEtKIvGtsF1eCJbZQmBVxj-TfuDXNPpFHr-4IyDD7DjBjLflPsrBANL9rhI2cKz8vVpi_X2UAmndk-5LUiT_zS1RnAyx4xFHZrTRMq5hw/s320/n193306806_31211415_7342.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-65762176068066697732011-11-24T01:04:00.003-07:002011-11-29T16:47:01.535-07:00A Time for Cocooning - #20Maybe I'll have to do 30 people in 40 days. I caught a cold and all I want to do with my free time is nap and read. I guess that's the lovely thing about being sick: down time. :) Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I have so many people and blessings to be grateful for. I absolutely love my family. They are so dear to me. Especially my sisters. I have 3 sisters: Rachelle, Melanie, and Anne. I had the opportunity to live with both Rachelle and Melanie and have so many memories during those experiences. When I moved to Seattle to live with my oldest sister, I had no idea it would be a literal turning point in my personality and life. Rachelle taught me so much. Especially things pertaining to becoming more of a woman than an 18 year old girl. She taught me how to do make-up (yes, I never knew how to do make-up) and how to dress fashionably according to me body build. She also inspired me to eat healthier and feel better about how I looked physically. This may not seem like a big deal except it was because my social life was forever changed. I gained confidence and with that came many opportunities I wouldn't have ever had otherwise. I also began to date which was extremely new to me, and Rachelle was there to help me every step of the way.<br />
<br />
I talked a lot about my negative attitude in High School, well, another reason that attitude began to fade was because of Rachelle and Paul. They were blunt to me and I needed blunt. I was being an unpleasant, depressed pill to live with and hurt Rachelle's feelings one night by saying something uncalled for. The next morning as I got up and got ready for work, Paul offered to drive me. He was brutally honest, which astonishes me because he is hardly ever like this. He said something along the lines of, "Pamela, I love you but the thing is, it is hard to be around you because are so negative all of the time. You kind of suck the energy out of people." That was the greatest wake up call of my life. I cried and cried after he had said it, but I knew it was true, and it was something I utterly despised. So, I did what the scriptures said to do in such a situation and turned to God. During this time period, President Hinckely had encouraged everyone in the LDS church to read the Book of Mormon. So while I read the book, I used its teachings and power to help change my heart and my weaknesses. There were many nights of pleading for forgiveness and pleading for a change in attitude. Those nights were some of the most comforting I have ever had although getting to the comfort wasn't always easy. I knew with Christ's grace, I could change. And I did and still am changing.<br />
<br />
I learned in YW a few Sundays ago about butterflies and how they can be in cocoons for years before they are fully developed. I consider myself to be still in my cocoon of positivity. One day, with God's help, I will fly out having overcome my weakness. Until then, I'm going to continue going to the source that gives me strength. Anyway, Washington was without a doubt the beginning of my caterpillar-to-cocoon-career. Thanks to Rachelle and Paul, I was on my way to becoming who I am, and I don't think it would have happened without the loving honesty.<br />
<br />
Rachelle, through example, also taught me about giving, sacrifices, and motherhood. Rachelle is such a generous person. She's often putting others' needs in front of her own. I love and appreciate that about her so much. Rachelle is also an incredible mother. She has 5 children and is outstanding with every one of them. She always goes above and beyond to serve them and make sure they get the nourishment they need to be successful. She is often teaching her children about the gospel and holds strong to her family values. In Washington, we had family prayer and scripture study every night. Although some of them were filled with laughter as the tiny ones prayed or recited scriptures, other nights helped me realize the power of love from God and the eternal family. I knew I wanted my family to have the blessing of the gospel just like my sister's kids had, and I knew I wanted a husband as supportive and loving as Paul was to Rachelle. So in many ways, my happiness today can be attributed to their kind, patient, and loving examples. <br />
<br />
Rachelle and Paul, thank you so much for some of the best months of my life. You two will always be dear to me and will always have a special place in my heart for the countless ways you have helped me grow. I love you!<br />
<br />
Pics are from 2005 <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_Psk5nQCdc6bHO2QpB42vk5_c9bH3qEwjuJ0uEyAxcLp8AnNFbLV1VPkzvVQ_LCSNh-AVSC5GLNRZEBNW0GKAwrIEum6Jgrh1EFi_hCwJNwzUnZfUTGPitvOBaiIEPvKdMLE0BCuyno/s1600/FamSnow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_Psk5nQCdc6bHO2QpB42vk5_c9bH3qEwjuJ0uEyAxcLp8AnNFbLV1VPkzvVQ_LCSNh-AVSC5GLNRZEBNW0GKAwrIEum6Jgrh1EFi_hCwJNwzUnZfUTGPitvOBaiIEPvKdMLE0BCuyno/s400/FamSnow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3zZwn-TWD6T4vBS42k7r220621fksovyu4czkj97XsmsX-gkIjyARhCTp1tvPPAynqR31s9iVaUrsRqNZmFrNp5JuqrvlSfRIueUuvYryv7TcJI886cF8Jdy6nc15mr_PEkDIdD9tqs/s1600/PamelaBoys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3zZwn-TWD6T4vBS42k7r220621fksovyu4czkj97XsmsX-gkIjyARhCTp1tvPPAynqR31s9iVaUrsRqNZmFrNp5JuqrvlSfRIueUuvYryv7TcJI886cF8Jdy6nc15mr_PEkDIdD9tqs/s400/PamelaBoys.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVZKir08q1PWIO1E77T7Oc-0t2ZFx_1DERXtWimySM8PzD7_1vtWxW_eDcFq45JRiT-Hx4qOtUr4O-cUZW71MjdZRtA2z-_cP1bt_DwJZztZuX2cSjKhS_dgTrYFI1IM7InmTGGB-FzQ/s1600/FamCanada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVZKir08q1PWIO1E77T7Oc-0t2ZFx_1DERXtWimySM8PzD7_1vtWxW_eDcFq45JRiT-Hx4qOtUr4O-cUZW71MjdZRtA2z-_cP1bt_DwJZztZuX2cSjKhS_dgTrYFI1IM7InmTGGB-FzQ/s400/FamCanada.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-22304922708426927702011-11-23T09:29:00.002-07:002011-11-23T09:45:23.839-07:00Firmness in the Right of God - #19It's hard not to live in fear when it comes to the livelihood of the American nation. The United States debt is billowing up to 11 trillion dollars, and for some reason, Justin Bieber and the NBA get breaking news coverage. Our great nation is sadly becoming more and more pathetic in its fast-to-idolize-people-who-look-good-on-a-screen and slow-to-support-our-nation's-moral-and-intellectual-dignity. The fact that we have a front-runner candidate (Gingrich) who cheated multiple times on his wives and refused to pay child support is preposterous. I understand forgiveness and grace but I really think the people who run for president should be exceptionally morally sound and honest people. Essentially, America needs another Abraham Lincoln: loyal, intelligent, moral, religious, humble, honest, and willing to stay strong in the values of America. <br />
<br />
Abraham Lincoln is my favorite president. Although he had his life and job on the line, he went forward with what was right in the eyes of God. Lincoln's strong leadership and Christian values saved our nation from corruption and secured the equality deserved by every man and woman in the world. He turned our young nation into something great. Now, some American people would take that hard, earnest standard of leadership and throw it away. I strongly feel if we want another president to lead our nation back to God, then it is our responsibility to find truth and valor in the candidates and elect the one that would steer us back to greatness. I love my country too much to sit back and care less about politics. Yes, they are annoying, but I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am a woman with the freedom to vote and voice my opinion, and I will do so the best I know how.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Abraham Lincoln's second inaugural address, he said, </span><span style="font-size: small;">"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan - to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations." <span style="color: #996666;">Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865. </span></span></div><br />
I feel this quote is equally fitting in America today. I hope and pray our nation's citizens will find truth and elect someone with Abraham Lincoln's mentality.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLoh9ILgwBd9knSYQ19WHRThp9w1Cy59i63ir-9Xq8RSrie1X3CamanaawKw3gtlaaVVik-ky3LD0gKxBBvb20hMvwrvJ-GGpEK246XS0sSxTWHs-V3R_ShJ-UisUy_pqhLWb7nROYa1w/s1600/220px-Abraham_Lincoln_head_on_shoulders_photo_portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLoh9ILgwBd9knSYQ19WHRThp9w1Cy59i63ir-9Xq8RSrie1X3CamanaawKw3gtlaaVVik-ky3LD0gKxBBvb20hMvwrvJ-GGpEK246XS0sSxTWHs-V3R_ShJ-UisUy_pqhLWb7nROYa1w/s1600/220px-Abraham_Lincoln_head_on_shoulders_photo_portrait.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-54504801627680977222011-11-19T01:04:00.000-07:002011-11-21T02:03:15.796-07:00Elder Holland - Day 18I know I have gotten behind a little on my tributes. I have been too tired to write lately so I have a lot of catching up to do. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely adore Elder Holland. I have listened to his talks and devotionals countless times and I never tire of them. Which is incredible considering that I don't even like to watch movies twice. Elder Holland never fails to reinvigorate me in my faith. His eloquence is memorable which makes his messages enduring. Although I have several favorite talks of Elder Holland, the one I often re-listen to or study is called <i>None Were with Him. </i>It is about the power of Christ's complete and infinite atonement. If you have approx 4 minutes, watch it. I guarantee it will comfort and inspire you:<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/rboSk1p06BQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<br />
Here is the full version of Elder Holland's talk. Trust me, it is well worth the 16 minutes of listening. Its message is life-changing:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/z17Mbsh3OO8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-41768002176247742382011-11-18T00:08:00.006-07:002011-11-21T00:42:50.459-07:00Very Special Grandparents - Day 17"That pin has a strong magnet on the bottom of it," Grandpa said as he shook his head and pointed towards the 9-pin. "Every time I get up there to bowl, they turn that magnet on."<br />
<br />
I laughed and responded, "Grandpa, you just have to throw the ball extra hard so you can knock off the magnet." He took my advice and grunted as he threw the ball with all the strength in his 81 year-old body. His thumb made the sound of a cork popping off a bottle when the ball left his hand. The ten-pounder flew down the lane about 3 feet and plopped hard on the wood. The plopping sounds continued and the ball looked like it was a small pebble skipping across a glassy lake. Sure enough, it slammed into the 9-pin and granted him a spare.<br />
<br />
"Grandpa, you did it! You knocked off the magnet!" I shouted.<br />
<br />
"No, I think they just decided to trick me and turn the magnet off this one time," He confessed in his soft, low voice while shaking his head and grinning widely. After the game, he treated my sister and me to dinner at Chuck-a-rama. We blew through our straws to push a torn napkin piece on the table. Whoever blew it on the opposide side of the table first, won. Grandpa was no match against Patricia and me, but he put up a strong fight. After our victory, Grandpa laughed softly and tears began to pool behind his glass lenses. His chin and lower lip trembled as he quietly mumbled, "You two are very special to me, very special."<br />
<br />
That was the first of many daddy-daughter dates we had with Grandpa after Dad died. Although he frequently told us that we were special to him, I will never forget that moment on that day because it was the beginning of an incredible relationship. I had the opportunity of editing and publishing my Grandpa Major's autobiography. Having the opportunity to read and re-read his story has truly been remarkable. His example of integrity and perseverance is evident through-out his life's story. There never was a magnet or obstacle too strong for him to knock off. Commend him for his success and he will confess that is was God who did it, not him. His simple wisdom is truly stunning; his in depth testimony is quiet, humble, and powerful. I am honored to be his granddaughter. He will always be very special to me, very special.<br />
<br />
I also want to include my sweet Grandma Major. I just love and adore her as well. She has taught me how to work hard and not complain. My grandma has terrible spinal spurs that cause her excruciating pain. Although it is extremely debilitating, she works through it and serves me grandpa, her children, and grandchildren. Up until this year, she cooked a full thanksgiving dinner. She'd work on it for days and it was always delicious. Even though it would have been easy for her to quite and say, "I can't cook anymore, I'm in way too much pain." My grandma also has the faith of a giant. She is always praying for her posterity. She loves us all and cares about our lives. I love my grandparents so much. I can't imagine not having them here on earth. I will miss them so much when they pass. Lucky for me, their equal stubbornness has been keeping them around (neither one of them want to leave the other alone). My grandparents have been married for 70 years. That is so amazing to me. Their relationship is one John and I hope to have when we reach our 90's as well.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfki3tXOc48ub13Ic-EYOpKVIyUEATJeemsGTMIyV4KbZtXZ2kNef9pzQoLDhRQWIni06EqdZR34Ro6pV_8tc-yGH-ggWPObX9BWrLa_N5NlTouniAAztllo5vEqY7ND3ZpuUnF6T-tfY/s1600/Blessing+%252824%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfki3tXOc48ub13Ic-EYOpKVIyUEATJeemsGTMIyV4KbZtXZ2kNef9pzQoLDhRQWIni06EqdZR34Ro6pV_8tc-yGH-ggWPObX9BWrLa_N5NlTouniAAztllo5vEqY7ND3ZpuUnF6T-tfY/s400/Blessing+%252824%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FeiKJb9METQyEHBoL9-Swp_u8BdmZNj2C4abfpTR640IeUtvXi8C6C7xWyfwJZ-CVXKPCeHLWoRrWdwTQg3JhM1rkP_ZT3yzlhWKRqntloqWJaj-alEEIoKAfBhs_ayV0GCoGfKUwbE/s1600/Blessing+%252827%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FeiKJb9METQyEHBoL9-Swp_u8BdmZNj2C4abfpTR640IeUtvXi8C6C7xWyfwJZ-CVXKPCeHLWoRrWdwTQg3JhM1rkP_ZT3yzlhWKRqntloqWJaj-alEEIoKAfBhs_ayV0GCoGfKUwbE/s320/Blessing+%252827%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Grandma and Grandpa, Thank you for being such amazing examples of hard work, endurance, and faith. I love you deeply and will always remember you as my very special grandparents.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-11343889045804576322011-11-17T15:44:00.004-07:002011-11-21T02:08:20.321-07:00My High School Sunshine: Carly - Day 16<div style="font-family: inherit;">Infectious laughter <span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">– b</span>eing blessed with such a pleasantly permanent contagion has got to be one of God's way of saying, "this person is special." At least, I know that is the case for a special friend in my life with the name of Carly Blackburn. I have to say that I doubt I have ever been able to be around Carly without receiving a much needed, unsolicited laughing attack. This girl, woman now, has a way of finding humor and happiness in life. When we were in the High School world together, I have to admit that I was both grateful and envious of her gift. Grateful because it always brought the sun out to break away my constant rain cloud of doom, and envious because I wish I could carry around the sun all by myself. But lucky for me, Carly was there to teach me here a little and there a little how to do so just by observing her.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">One thing that stood out to me the most was Carly's ability to find joy in extremely small experiences or things. Take for example her college job: pining bees. I'm not even joking when I say Carly studied bees to help her get through college and she was absolutely enthralled with it. She loved to talk about the different types of bees and where to find them and what they did. And I would listen to her smiling and thinking, "Wow, I never knew bees were so exciting!" And they were, at least when Carly talked about them. Because of Carly's ability to find such joy in so many small things, Anne and I were thrilled to go on a trip to CA to see Wicked with her. I was so excited to see her face and her reactions while we watched the show, but what was funny, was everything seemed to be equally exciting for her. Although the show was definitely the best part of the trip for me, she'd go off about how fun this and that was and the seashells on the beach etc etc etc. She was able to take the trip and make a ton of memories out of it while I only had two. One, which was the absolutely amazing show, and the other, which was sun poisoning. Which by the way, Carly had us laughing about basically the whole trip because she had such a positive view on it.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Carly was so much a joy that we decided to ask if she'd come along for a family trip to see Wicked again the summer of 07'. This time, I tried to vacation her style a little bit more. My favorite part of the trip was singing Broadway songs full blast on the road-trip and taking pics in the coolest bathroom I have ever been in to date. I'm not sure what made it so cool except that Carly was making my laugh hysterically in it when we took a pit stop in Colorado. Actually, I believe the goal was to take a picture of us in every bathroom we went to on the road-trip, and her utter excitement about the idea was what was making my crack up. </div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUy_12PKpTG646QYfjV3CvIo22VCM75Cg7PEKgV3k70cRxFG-qhKmUkmKP-79vG2210MoTqXVsYfV5waz7PNgMmSIbXiHg9t5XGoS5MULLXZmQ-54sk8b3VHqKbCp5vUq9Q_mVJIRVAI/s1600/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUy_12PKpTG646QYfjV3CvIo22VCM75Cg7PEKgV3k70cRxFG-qhKmUkmKP-79vG2210MoTqXVsYfV5waz7PNgMmSIbXiHg9t5XGoS5MULLXZmQ-54sk8b3VHqKbCp5vUq9Q_mVJIRVAI/s320/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+024.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_1nkbkHXjVxsqLHILNh97BZYmNLDcgcm1sYZI8bmRrDP9NILMxjMr423gDqdX-fNyoBL89Mlue31EBvrDZhoEz7Vb0lZ_WFgktEcw6uSnZUvHlPvxxviCaCVrZzU5aTiqFJDxpGAciY/s1600/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_1nkbkHXjVxsqLHILNh97BZYmNLDcgcm1sYZI8bmRrDP9NILMxjMr423gDqdX-fNyoBL89Mlue31EBvrDZhoEz7Vb0lZ_WFgktEcw6uSnZUvHlPvxxviCaCVrZzU5aTiqFJDxpGAciY/s320/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+026.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw_V6FXdsf79ZdgR44WJK1LOedA8vTbNuLzCGBjN2164Gcf794bpnkx_VLqew9_Db_bf-hsJIJspp0hlIfafpicotrtjFYJ4A_8qDAfk5KzVzLdBhnJCUhU7e2VLIfdYONPCS_vAzyMU/s1600/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpw_V6FXdsf79ZdgR44WJK1LOedA8vTbNuLzCGBjN2164Gcf794bpnkx_VLqew9_Db_bf-hsJIJspp0hlIfafpicotrtjFYJ4A_8qDAfk5KzVzLdBhnJCUhU7e2VLIfdYONPCS_vAzyMU/s400/WICKED%2521%2521%2521+027.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Anyway, I will forever remember how to vacation and live life the Carly-way. Something else I learned from Carly was her ability to just be herself. She didn't try to live up to what seemed like other's expectations. An example of this is when it would get late during sleep-overs, instead of staying up at ridiculous hours, Carly was okay just to say, "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." We loved to tease her about going to bed early, but looking back now, I loved the fact that she stayed true to herself instead of trying to fit into some mold that she didn't fit into.<br />
<br />
Speaking of molding, another thing I love about Carly is her creativity and her ability to make things. Carly was married shortly after John and me. When we married we were completely and utterly broke. Neither one of us had jobs because we had just moved, and we were barely making it food-wise every week. So, we ended up having to re-wrap a wedding gift for Carly. (Yes, I'll admit it Carly, one day when we are on our feet again, I owe you a proper wedding gift.) Anyway, I honestly chose something I thought she'd be excited about, but apparently she didn't think much of it until she was able to make it into some sort of a jerry-rig for her science class. Now she jokes that she probably used our wedding gift more than anyone else's at the time. But anyway, the point is that Carly can make anything useful and can turn something ordinary to extra-ordinary in no time. Her artistic ability is truly incredible, and honestly, I wish she lived closer to me so I could spend more time with her and learn a bit from her talents.<br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Carly, AKA as Fora, I am deeply grateful for your friendship. Thank you so much for giving me the medicine of laughter every time I am with you. I hope you remember the memories</span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">–bowling balls, scrounge, Wicked, L.A., U2, Aloe Vera plants, bathroom pictures, beautiful hikes, swimming in freezing swimming pools, etc.</span><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 115%;">–and </span><span style="font-size: small;">I hope we'll be able to make more again one day. Seriously, I think a Colby-Yates vacation has got to be in order in a few years. : ) Thank you so much for being my sunshine. I love you dearly.</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUb2n90gzyFLO6ByLnH2dilwJU7WTRfxZbOm7RZnJJh7_uScB7hV6ZzchqQBy3UCdCVE7qLj1cXnc1HscMFRRFze4oWuJGTtjEPviDCnA593AhqMdWP5UTORyq4qt-3wGgRC1w_HMleko/s1600/Hiking+042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUb2n90gzyFLO6ByLnH2dilwJU7WTRfxZbOm7RZnJJh7_uScB7hV6ZzchqQBy3UCdCVE7qLj1cXnc1HscMFRRFze4oWuJGTtjEPviDCnA593AhqMdWP5UTORyq4qt-3wGgRC1w_HMleko/s320/Hiking+042.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNkKvzEXPIuT_w1NI2a882gPaVa0rQxl_fcQMMV-cbSadXNC1aXTGjW3OWg3q3J-nedDE8nJViqSWjSr1MaT4js1jNKW0muYWsrpRdUxgEm0Z9tJrtItgL9yZPTnPhRt4fPgeO3FdpBY/s1600/Hiking+080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNkKvzEXPIuT_w1NI2a882gPaVa0rQxl_fcQMMV-cbSadXNC1aXTGjW3OWg3q3J-nedDE8nJViqSWjSr1MaT4js1jNKW0muYWsrpRdUxgEm0Z9tJrtItgL9yZPTnPhRt4fPgeO3FdpBY/s320/Hiking+080.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DAAfgSt6Gg2iMAowPAGHgb3plaGfB7evOpPuWyQiNT8gzbLd3QYwILxhvi8zb-C6JpRpQtMYSW2Hqk0araIZ767CWL_Z0DK3dIR5aMAuAdXVotS2tuQ7f2P0Ob0xKwGsGv7aqvnNjqw/s1600/Birthday+Bash+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DAAfgSt6Gg2iMAowPAGHgb3plaGfB7evOpPuWyQiNT8gzbLd3QYwILxhvi8zb-C6JpRpQtMYSW2Hqk0araIZ767CWL_Z0DK3dIR5aMAuAdXVotS2tuQ7f2P0Ob0xKwGsGv7aqvnNjqw/s320/Birthday+Bash+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-67528223973154224722011-11-16T14:48:00.001-07:002011-11-17T15:11:36.624-07:00My Angel Support Team: Jess - Day 15I now want to write for once a bit about something I hated which will show why my next tribute is so loved. I say "hated" as a past-tense verb because I now realize several blessings that have come forth because of it. I passionately hated High School. I'm guessing it was a combination between having to go through the hardest thing in my life during my sophomore and junior years (namely testifying in court against someone who hurt me deeply) and, well, High School. So let's face it, a lot of the time I was bitter and depressed, and I don't think I hid those two emotions very well. With that being said, anyone who put up with me was truly angel-like and those who were genuine friends to me were without a doubt, angels. I know that sounds cheesy but I am really serious. I know these people were in my life at that time for reasons beyond friendship. They were God's clarion sent to remind me who I was and where I was going.<br />
<br />
Now, with that lengthy introduction, I want to write about someone who must have been called on the angel-support team just for me: Jessica Wall. I can't remember exactly how I met Jess or even how we really became close. Which is sad because she has become a very dear friend of mine. But anyway, Jess had an incredible way of being available when I needed someone to talk to or needed support during the woes of High School. I can remember several times when Jess would actually just sit and listen to me go off about my personal life and heartache. She emphasized with me, cried with me, and hugged me. She cared. Jess often sent me cards and flowers on certain days like my father's death anniversary or hard days dealing with the trial. Her thoughtfulness often helped me remember that people loved me and that I needed to remain hopeful. Jess also had an amazing way of encouraging me to go beyond my potential talents. She knew I loved to write in High School and she often tried talking me into submitting poems and essays into contests. She actually had confidence in me, which in turn, made me want to work harder and learn more. Jess is partially responsible for my decision to test into Honors English and then take A.P. English our senior year. During those times, she would often compliment my writing skills, which looking back may have been a bit exaggerated, but I appreciate her doing so because it was flattering and deeply inspiring at the time. I also have to mention that although Jess and I often had deep conversations, we equally had as many memories laughing together. <br />
<br />
Perhaps part of Jess' angelic nature came with her ability to see the future. Jess was the only friend that allowed me to go off about my crush on John without thinking I was just being silly. She would challenge me to hang out with him more and talk to him, which I needed considering how shy I was in the realm of boys. Also, Jess was the first person I called when John asked me out. I had no idea what to do because I was already in serious relationship with someone else but I really wanted to go out with John. Jess tried to convince me to just go out with John without telling my boyfriend at the time. If only I had listened to her words of wisdom. It would have saved a lot of heartache. Anyway, Jess was also one of the first to hear that I was engaged because she was always so supportive in my relationship with John and would often give me much needed advice.<br />
<br />
Jess and I are still close friends today. We can go months without seeing or talking to each other, and yet, as soon as we begin to chat, it's like we just left off from the last time we talked. I still confide in Jess a lot of the internal battles I face and the trials that I am going through, and she still has her angelic empathy. Which I cannot thank her enough for.<br />
<br />
Jess, I love you! Thank you for being an angel friend. I hope you will always remember how much your support and love through High School meant to me. I'm sad that you will be leaving Utah. Hopefully we can pick up on our letter writing again so we don't lose touch. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukL8vNra-srTtLZQY9YZ1V2qJzoZRJ8bhDiT-GmX5toKz_3fnID1Hx2_FyMeweMrHoV-2efjQGqZYNqkzrC5BgJNmxXuk2TwhKcdfzIFTiquMI-BApIS1_JxHIqikHCDW1HRuCFsH4VI/s1600/n193306806_31873943_7432ed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukL8vNra-srTtLZQY9YZ1V2qJzoZRJ8bhDiT-GmX5toKz_3fnID1Hx2_FyMeweMrHoV-2efjQGqZYNqkzrC5BgJNmxXuk2TwhKcdfzIFTiquMI-BApIS1_JxHIqikHCDW1HRuCFsH4VI/s320/n193306806_31873943_7432ed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-36908696231744366392011-11-14T23:00:00.000-07:002011-11-15T00:14:00.687-07:00A Tribute to the Birthday Boy - Day 14Since today is my brother's birthday, I thought it would be perfect to write why I am grateful for him and his sweet wife. Growing up, we used to tease Jason by calling him "mom" because he would often be cooking and cleaning for us. Looking back now, I can see that I learned a lot of my deep cleaning skills from watching him and talking to him when he cleaned (I know, I was a terrible sister by not helping out much). Aside from being the additional mother in the home, Jason brought a lot of laughter. He used to go through days when he would only talk by singing. Of course, I never minded because I loved his voice and loved listening to him sing. It always brought a lot of laughter when Mom was trying to ask him something and he would sing back to her. Jason also played the violin. Some of the greatest moments of peace I had growing up were when when he played. He was absolutely amazing. He could play many songs by ear and the soul that he put into his music often caused me goosebumps. Growing up, I looked up to him a lot and I was so proud he was my brother.<br />
<br />
Jason is still a big example to me today. He is a hard worker and an amazing husband and father. In a few months, Jason will be graduating with his Nurse Practitioner license. It is so amazing to me that he and his wife were able to get him through med school while he worked full time, oh and they have 3 kids under the age of 6. It really goes to show the strength of their marriage and their work ethic to be able to accomplish that; especially when he has annoying siblings who call frequently to ask medical questions during the time he's either trying to sleep, work, or study.<br />
<br />
One of the biggest things that I appreciate about Jason is that he accepts me for who I am and loves me regardless of anything else. When I chose to marry John, he was so supportive that he put on a tux to take Dad's place and danced a daddy-daughter dance with me. This was one of the most touching experiences I have had with him and it will be a memory that will last forever. I appreciate his willingness to step outside of his comfort zone and think of me above himself that day. A few months ago, Jason approached me and told me he respected me and my beliefs. He told me he loved me and supported me. Coming from a brother, this meant so much and it only affirmed all of the loving feelings and gratitude I already had towards him.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure I can finish my blog post without mentioning Jason's sweet wife Racheal. Especially since Racheal is a major part of Jason. They have an incredible marriage and relationship. Anyway, there are not many people more giving and serving than Racheal is. She is always bringing over boxes of clothes and toys for M and frankly, there is no way we would be able to make it financially without all of her hand-me-downs. She gives and gives and gives and does it so kindly. More than just things, Racheal is so good at giving advice. When I need mothering advice or advice in other areas, I often call Racheal first. She's like my personal google. And again, she always gives me advice lovingly, patiently, and understandingly. One of the reasons I was able to carry M full-term was because Racheal stressed that I get my progesterone tested and take progesterone pills. My levels were super low and so without that advice and inspiration, well, who knows what would have happened. I consider Racheal a sister of mine and I love her so much. I just hope she knows how much her constant service and giving means to me and my family. I often think to myself, "I want to be more like Racheal." Hopefully, I'll keep learning from her so I can.<br />
<br />
Jason, I can't wait until you finish your clinicals so I can see you and your cute family more. Racheal, thanks for being so patient and giving towards me. I appreciate you both and all the memories we share. Love you!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-40r_drfsMs-70RSnLYOUvPW6CY_X86uafRa05Fm5YqX9d4m7uHE68HR9oAuIKKQKntl5TyIwosm_DXDRqSx1oQNUJdCiyTVRL8dNO6Ot3csf72Pl3y-WlaSttL6zeHVmPi9d9-7ZFE/s1600/IMG_4619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-40r_drfsMs-70RSnLYOUvPW6CY_X86uafRa05Fm5YqX9d4m7uHE68HR9oAuIKKQKntl5TyIwosm_DXDRqSx1oQNUJdCiyTVRL8dNO6Ot3csf72Pl3y-WlaSttL6zeHVmPi9d9-7ZFE/s320/IMG_4619.JPG" width="212" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTUq3raL-zw_IU1j5LYPj5_bxPHmhi1spyHNCBPhxJjKcUia0h1GoJc3_B1AMHwHfQxJLn45VA6hIB1SdO0MDXMPQVul4V88sk7eYNjlp346mUeDN8z3h2qPYjBXMBznRnDXgkx_9GJw/s1600/IMG_4311_s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTUq3raL-zw_IU1j5LYPj5_bxPHmhi1spyHNCBPhxJjKcUia0h1GoJc3_B1AMHwHfQxJLn45VA6hIB1SdO0MDXMPQVul4V88sk7eYNjlp346mUeDN8z3h2qPYjBXMBznRnDXgkx_9GJw/s320/IMG_4311_s.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-66965194550127452212011-11-13T12:49:00.001-07:002011-11-14T13:57:07.460-07:00Papa, I'm Always Missing You - Day 13As I have been writing these posts, I have been able to rekindle friendships and tell the people in my life how much I love them. It has truly been an awesome experience so far. I read on the news today about a mother and two children who died in a tragic car accident. The woman has a husband and another child who survived her. As soon as I read the headline, my heart filled with heaviness and grief for the loved ones involved in this tragedy. Life is so short. Even when it is lived to 90 or 100 years. I feel that it is essential we tell those who are in our lives what they mean to us because of life's unexpected turns. I hope and pray this sweet husband and wife had a loving embrace followed by loving words before the crash. My heart and prayers go out to the family involved with today's devastating deadline. <br />
<br />
With this in mind, I want to write about my sweet father. Perhaps one of the hardest parts of dealing with his death at age 12, was dealing with his absence while growing up. For the first several weeks following Dad's death, I would expect the front door to swing open around 6:00 P.M. My dad usually found my mom first thing to give her a big hug and kiss and then we'd eat dinner as a family. Days went by unusually slow for a while. 6:00 P.M. would roll around and the door would remain untouched no matter how much I wished for it to magically bring back my father. The heartache and depression seemed unbearable at the time. I often remember walking around the junior high halls feeling hurt that no one really understood what I was going through. It seemed that most of them thought their bad hair day was enough to scar their junior high career. It did not seem to register for many of them the realness of life and death. Because of this, I often felt jaded and isolated. Also those kids who seemed to show concern didn't really know what to say or how to approach me, so I watched as they stared at me or whispered to their friends about what was going on. Ugh, junior high is hard enough without having to deal with all of that and then go home and deal with a heart-broken mother and a home without my Dad. It seemed unfair.<br />
<br />
Looking back now, I realize that there were probably a lot of kids dealing with equally hard problems: divorce, abuse, and poverty. I wish I could have realized that then so many of us didn't have to deal with it alone, feeling empty and hurt. I do have to say that I was blessed enough to have a twin sister who was always there for me. We knew how each other felt without having to talk about it. I was also extremely blessed to have a mother who did all she could to make sure my childhood wasn't a black hole. Also, later on, I met some wonderful friends who were able to replace a lot of the pain I felt with joyous memories.<br />
<br />
Although writing about all of this feels good, I haven't mentioned what I miss and love about my papa. You know the saying, "The best thing a father can do for his kids is love their mother?" Well, according to this statement, my dad did the best thing for his children because he was absolutely smitten with my mother and it was almost sickeningly too sweet. My parents had the most romantic marriage. They loved to spend time with each other dancing and playing games. As children, we knew at 10:00 P.M., my parents were no longer parents. They put us to sleep and then had the rest of their night to themselves to build their relationship, even if it meant working together on something. My dad was also sickeningly sweet to us, his children. He loved to give us "bear hugs" and what he called "slobbery kisses." He spoiled us with love.<br />
<br />
My father had an amazing testimony. He always told us that he never doubted. There is no doubt his strong testimony must have been a gift from the Holy Ghost. I remember one of the last Family Home Evenings we had, my sweet Dad almost begged us to follow the commandments and live the gospel so we could be together as a family again. In his eyes, even at 12, I could see that he believed whole-hardheartedly in what he was teaching us. He believed in the gospel and the strength of the family. <br />
<br />
Dad, I love you dearly and tenderly. I wish M could have the opportunity to be held by you and have one of your slobbery kisses. However, I know that you are still near, watching over my sweet family and being there for Mom. Papa, I'm always missing you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtESVIXxHHHN2TCDv_fR3xKk1SH40ddOXtJjuZ6YY1msr4QEHObkagvRbjhR0tyq0rx5Av_aq1RLby5R9dkDrYz-8qetLEZ5yDcsi6ijP_lCyomeHC3xmZGCD2up_xN5YR2PgIXRHERk/s1600/Island+Park+128.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtESVIXxHHHN2TCDv_fR3xKk1SH40ddOXtJjuZ6YY1msr4QEHObkagvRbjhR0tyq0rx5Av_aq1RLby5R9dkDrYz-8qetLEZ5yDcsi6ijP_lCyomeHC3xmZGCD2up_xN5YR2PgIXRHERk/s640/Island+Park+128.BMP" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKshnzulOgg0XjPm_2Jeur3MfhRnZl1KE9RBKGMh-8X5-Ht18Yth9mMhJ0nlY9-zm4uVjeDlX8obyOAvU3yhj-5tHgj4NSQFh0MF9VcZLHkSwK0rGkDSK9d4CaaR6OcFSN0y-SD3WWQ1o/s1600/Island+Park+130.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKshnzulOgg0XjPm_2Jeur3MfhRnZl1KE9RBKGMh-8X5-Ht18Yth9mMhJ0nlY9-zm4uVjeDlX8obyOAvU3yhj-5tHgj4NSQFh0MF9VcZLHkSwK0rGkDSK9d4CaaR6OcFSN0y-SD3WWQ1o/s320/Island+Park+130.BMP" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgT9pHEj9mRpq1T81qwersxGw32nPIwabBewKLRq60oyk2ECSMrIOa-GtfJXY3jWomkEvrijakLBZzPD-TQe_HDESeFZRWOgxXihtiwqT4BOxcq-uoIngruUq6tWRha7hTf0QbAizXrI/s1600/Island+Park+132.BMP" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgT9pHEj9mRpq1T81qwersxGw32nPIwabBewKLRq60oyk2ECSMrIOa-GtfJXY3jWomkEvrijakLBZzPD-TQe_HDESeFZRWOgxXihtiwqT4BOxcq-uoIngruUq6tWRha7hTf0QbAizXrI/s320/Island+Park+132.BMP" width="286" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-2732300971040509532011-11-12T22:43:00.003-07:002011-11-13T23:17:55.681-07:00Friends through Starburst Operations - Day 12I was reading in my journal a few weeks ago and came across a passage that made me smile and reminded me of an awesome Junior High and High School friend of mine. On November 13, 2001 it reads:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">...Brooke is awesome. She told me she will never get sick of me. Brooke and I are still pretty close...we have a lot of fun things we do. Like Starburst operation. At Synthia's Halloween party there were a ton of people there. Anyways, we were watching Wait Till Dark. Brooke and I got the couch while every one else was on the floor. We stoll [aka stole] a bag of Starbursts and threw it at people. We started to throw it at Kelli and she got a cookie and threw it at us. It was way funny. We laughed so much. Every time I see Brooke or talk to her, she tells me we need some Starbursts. We also have a little cheer we made up together. We do it in the halls, it's fun....</blockquote><br />
I believe I was only 13 when I wrote this, so don't make fun! But I wanted to point out how much I adored Brooke. She is in a lot of my journal writes growing up. Here's another fun one from March 25, 2003:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">Monday we had school off. So from Sunday to Monday we had a sleepover [with Brooke and Aimee]. We stayed up all night. I didn't sleep till 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon. Brooke and me decided we were going to make Trish and Aimee a drink with a whole bunch of gross things and they would have to drink it. We made the most gagging drink ever and we decided since we made a deal that we would have to drink it too, we would make something good. So we did. Then we just talked for a long time. </blockquote>Anyway, we had so many fun memories together. I had the opportunity to see Brooke for the first time in a long time, and it was so fun to talk for a while. She has the cutest little girl that is a couple months older than M. She just has the cutest little family. Looking back now, it's sad that we kind of parted ways and didn't stay close. I regret that a lot.<br />
<br />
Brooke, I hope you know how much I love and appreciate your friendship. Thank you for all the good memories and fun journal writes. ; ) p.s. sorry for stealing a pic, but it was so cute I couldn't resist. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGKAMymGlYqJdYysugr9sbXvEytGyoolURKzCfnA57seDgYPHW9PnXO6nLqlmtGNu0QMhhxWMEhn9jECgVQBSR7fFWuh2gY3nRShaF17aa8vlm3A0C_WK6Q1-D1p0P4ayE3wb8vjONk2c/s1600/314395_300145996663720_100000049672996_1284839_1699116813_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGKAMymGlYqJdYysugr9sbXvEytGyoolURKzCfnA57seDgYPHW9PnXO6nLqlmtGNu0QMhhxWMEhn9jECgVQBSR7fFWuh2gY3nRShaF17aa8vlm3A0C_WK6Q1-D1p0P4ayE3wb8vjONk2c/s400/314395_300145996663720_100000049672996_1284839_1699116813_n.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-2550497373131840272011-11-11T21:45:00.003-07:002011-11-12T22:23:49.964-07:00Another Tribute to Annican - Day 11It's getting harder and harder to decide who to write about next. I have a big list of people that I want to write about but I feel like time and blog posts are running out. I may just have to add a few more days to fit them all in. We'll have to see. Although I already wrote a huge tribute to Anne, my beloved twin sister, in September, I do want to make sure she also made in my 30 people in 30 days posts.<br />
<br />
How can one adequately describe the awesomeness of having a best friend there with you almost 24/7 while growing up? This is a task I am still trying to overcome because it really is hard to describe what it is like to have a twin and be a twin. What I can say is that it is a major blessing and an honor to be among the small portion of people on this earth with an identical twin, and an even greater blessing to be among the smaller portion of those who absolutely adore their twin and are close to them. Anne and I haven't always seen eye to eye, well except maybe literally, but right now our relationship is truly a gem. Anne keeps me entertained during the long days John is at school and at work, and I thoroughly enjoy her company. I get excited when she calls and talks to me on her work break and I look forward to the days we set aside time to get together. She is a sweetheart to put up with me and I love her so much. I have to say that Anne has an amazing heart that always seems to be constantly giving. Whether it be time, nursing and photographer expertise, or a quick lunch, she is always doing something for me or helping me out in one way or another. I hope she knows how appreciative I am of her and all she does for me and my family.<br />
<br />
Anne, I love you! I look forward to all the fun memories ahead of us and I look forward to becoming twin grandmas together. Maybe we'll still look enough alike to trick our grand-kids. : )<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_3qwlL1Qy3IoPne0v3riKrBszd19f_gWUGQl6weGPDiQNkGaHbfOYmdhXa74EPVvFZEM7x1reTQAUhqi0_lFxItliwCC1PKlz1R8d50b1NXq629dbXJFpg2D4OQoi7Z8BHf4SireS5A/s1600/Blessing+%252859%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_3qwlL1Qy3IoPne0v3riKrBszd19f_gWUGQl6weGPDiQNkGaHbfOYmdhXa74EPVvFZEM7x1reTQAUhqi0_lFxItliwCC1PKlz1R8d50b1NXq629dbXJFpg2D4OQoi7Z8BHf4SireS5A/s400/Blessing+%252859%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-37055868153204321752011-11-10T20:58:00.001-07:002011-11-11T21:43:09.398-07:00M - Day 10I know every parent thinks they have the cutest child because that is exactly how I feel about my beautiful baby. When I think of M, I think of the lyrics, "kissable, huggable, loveable, unbelievable!" because she is all of those things to me. M has the ability to make me genuinely smile and laugh on a daily basis. I feel so honored to be her mother and have the ability to watch her grow, learn, and mature. My heart is overflowing with gratitude for this perfect gift God has entrusted me with.<br />
<br />
I find it interesting that it seems to be more and more popular not to want children these days. People think they cost too much and take too much time. Also, according to some, children are seen as a trap or a prison-cell. Although I have no doubt some parents sadly feel this way about their children, I definitely do not. Raising M has been one of the most exciting adventures of my lifetime. The ability to create human life is absolutely incredible; to be able to watch part of my genetic make-up develop and grow into another person is indescribable. It is absolutely baffling the way life begins as a single cell and grows into a intelligent human being all in 9 months time. I have a hard time understanding why anyone wouldn't want to experience such a unique experience, but that's just my personal feelings. <br />
<br />
However, I would have to say that the hardest part of being a mother is the pain that comes from seeing M be in pain or the pain that comes from the thought of losing her. To love someone as much as a mother loves a child creates some powerful feelings of joy but equally powerful feelings of pain. I can't imagine losing M. To all those parents who have lost children, I admire your strength and faith to keep going and living a happy life despite your heartache. I'd have to say that that would be the only reason I wouldn't want to be a mother. Just the fear of loving a person that much and losing them even for a short time period seems to be too much of a sacrifice. <br />
<br />
Anyway, frequently during the day I whisper to M, "I love you, Sweetheart." If she ever reads this post, I hope she knows that it is essential she knows that I love her tenderly and am grateful for her bright and happy personality in our home. I look forward to all the memories that we will make together and I will remember with fondness all the memories we already have.<br />
<br />
I love you Sweetheart!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYTXG4dmjPmOFrYpdjvXCHb5CiUIOl_AVOUfDzti-C6DD7346fWYkbVW6ZsS8HS9sVtumc2BygvrRQba_j_3gVJ_FLW6Ek1XROrihx4K4Rbl5iizDPtJxAX3F2EqEEwPoTdgrZ29zv-w/s1600/4edit+swounol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYTXG4dmjPmOFrYpdjvXCHb5CiUIOl_AVOUfDzti-C6DD7346fWYkbVW6ZsS8HS9sVtumc2BygvrRQba_j_3gVJ_FLW6Ek1XROrihx4K4Rbl5iizDPtJxAX3F2EqEEwPoTdgrZ29zv-w/s400/4edit+swounol.jpg" width="338" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-43286947750968745082011-11-10T01:52:00.000-07:002011-11-17T15:05:20.201-07:00To Everyone in My LifeIt's been harder and harder to blog about loved ones. Probably because I am so sensitive when it comes to making other people feel bad. I really don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or make anyone feel left out as I continue to blog. So I would hope all of my family and friends would understand that each of you really do hold a special place in my heart and each person is important to me for different reasons. It's been interesting because every day this month I wake up thinking and praying about a few people in particular and by the end of the day, I have a strong feeling on who I want to write about. It's been an incredible experience and it has helped me remember so many of you whom I love and adore so tenderly. Maybe I'll have to keep writing tributes until Christmas to fit everyone in or maybe I'll just keep this as a tradition and continue where I leave off next year. : ) <br />
<br />
Anyway, I just needed to make sure I put in this excerpt so I don't unintentionally hurt someone dear to me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-34330182316036161192011-11-09T23:00:00.002-07:002011-11-10T17:44:19.438-07:00Brother Schmidt - Day 9Brother Schmidt was one of many influential advisers I had at BYU-Idaho, but he was probably the one that I'll remember the most. About a year before I worked with him, he was bucked off a horse and paralyzed from the waist down. From that point he underwent surgeries and extensive rehab to get him back to work. The first time I met Brother Schmidt, I noticed his wide smile. He was happy regardless of the wheelchair in which he sat. He had a way of being always being positive. Brother Schmidt taught me how to teach with questions or, in other words, use the Socratic method. This type of teaching has been instrumental in my learning and Brother Schmidt's example of asking the right questions always conjured thinking. I always appreciated that about him.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I had the opportunity to go on a Project Inspire (week long service project) with Brother Schmidt and it was a remarkable experience. He always found a way of helping out despite his limitations. He could help assemble and build and he was good at it too. His love for service still inspires me today.<br />
<br />
I remember one semester sitting inside of an office with a window looking out into the hallway on campus. Tears of happiness dripped onto the paper I was writing on when I saw Brother Schmidt, with all of his strength, take a few steps with a walker in the hallway. I remembered when he told me several doctors said he would never walk again but he was determined to prove them wrong, and there he was walking. What an incredible man. I am so grateful to have known him and to have learned from him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqyas3EfHncTZTf-UG_VEY1jlBU5ShefloYDaYnsWV7uyaixLPw4h-GO2zbwDsNzVfFrgZQWt_eSQQkUd3Evp2EM5N7EuiOS87wjm9iM1mAa-4nhWilYTERVq4S7F8ixkAv-SEpQvn8/s1600/n193306806_31272110_9071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIqyas3EfHncTZTf-UG_VEY1jlBU5ShefloYDaYnsWV7uyaixLPw4h-GO2zbwDsNzVfFrgZQWt_eSQQkUd3Evp2EM5N7EuiOS87wjm9iM1mAa-4nhWilYTERVq4S7F8ixkAv-SEpQvn8/s400/n193306806_31272110_9071.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Brother Schmidt, his daughters, and some friends. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAyJdtqL7GTilWYD94h-tX7fzz-8aXEeda2sqGrrixkAuLyLEkSVQ83LoH8K2SgequefkoDZuZmTlXXWk1np2XOCbVUt5mV4KaaJBx1CtlSGa_HOAOCdE7PFetwezgunMDccXQHJEue4/s1600/n193306806_30377422_4678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAyJdtqL7GTilWYD94h-tX7fzz-8aXEeda2sqGrrixkAuLyLEkSVQ83LoH8K2SgequefkoDZuZmTlXXWk1np2XOCbVUt5mV4KaaJBx1CtlSGa_HOAOCdE7PFetwezgunMDccXQHJEue4/s320/n193306806_30377422_4678.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> The P.I. group with Brother Schmidt<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5UY63aI9VLGhBW3zcC8hj-FifyhTpvIMc8Nh35VTf1BFYdH2a11cu1Tgq06rBaae_XBZHmxr_LFeOqW9If0f7yyWg_YpJSDoix9DmqzRBQo-cBISB0BO0wqHgUN-xx51uAOtov9gNQA/s1600/n193306806_30377414_3138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5UY63aI9VLGhBW3zcC8hj-FifyhTpvIMc8Nh35VTf1BFYdH2a11cu1Tgq06rBaae_XBZHmxr_LFeOqW9If0f7yyWg_YpJSDoix9DmqzRBQo-cBISB0BO0wqHgUN-xx51uAOtov9gNQA/s320/n193306806_30377414_3138.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943238551465853412.post-67697620090575495512011-11-08T11:58:00.004-07:002011-11-10T13:13:17.576-07:00There is no Hyberbole, She is My Hero - Day 8Imagine being a widow at age 25. Now imagine being a widow because your husband decided to take his own life with a gunshot to the head while you were upstairs. Imagine holding your dear husband in your arms and calling 9-1-1 with the realization that he is probably already gone. This would be an unimaginably heart-breaking experience wouldn't it? And yet, my beautiful friend Krystal experienced exactly what I just had you imagine.<br />
<br />
Krystal is hands down THE most resilient person I know. A couple years after burying her sister, she went through this and even though I think it'd be undeniably easy to "throw in the towel" per say, she keeps on trekking in faith. I try not to hyperbolize the hero's in my life because they are real people; however, Krystal and a heroic hyperbole could never by synonymous. She is, to me, the definition of courage, hope, and endurance. She is the epitome of strength. When I find myself complaining, I think of her and her determination to make her life in accordance to God's will, and her ability to do so with class. She is a genuine example of relying on the Lord in faith, this doesn't mean she doesn't have moments of doubt or sadness, it means that she never gives up. She still gets out of bed on Sundays to fulfill her calling; she bears testimony of her unique knowledge of the gospel and her understanding of gratitude. She continues to believe in God, which is nothing short of incredible.<br />
<br />
Krystal is my hero, but I want to make sure I write that her heroism doesn't just come from her resiliency from tragedy. It comes from her ability to be selfless and compassionate. During the times I struggled in Junior High and High School, she reached out to me and befriended me. Krystal, since then, has always been a dear friend and an example to me.<br />
<br />
Krystal constantly puts the focus on others rather than herself and she does so in a very empathetically genuine way. One of many examples of this was when my husband was going to school during the day and working during the night. Of course, this was a few months after Krystal lost her husband and she said to me, "Wow, that would be hard not to be able to see your husband all day." I thought to myself, "Wow, she's incredible to empathesize with that given she doesn't get to see her husband at all." Something also amazing was when I was pregnant, Krystal came to visit me with a basket of baby stuff. She was happy for me. I think this shows the amazing giving and self-less nature of her character. Which by the way reminds me of a quote that fits Krystal's character perfectly: <span class="text_exposed_show">“Character is revealed, for example, in the power to discern the suffering of other people when we ourselves are suffering; in the ability to detect the hunger of others when we are hungry; and in the power to reach out and extend compassion for the spiritual agony of others when we are in the midst of our own spiritual distress. Thus, character is demonstrated by looking and reaching outward when the natural and instinctive response is to be self-absorbed and turn inward.” (David A. Bednar, “The Character of Christ,” BYU-Idaho Religion Symposium)</span><br />
<br />
Krystal is one of those people I could go on and on about because I love her so dearly and her friendship means so much to me. I hope she knows the impact she has had on my life. I have a feeling her inspiration has been delivered to hundreds of other people, and I'm sure hundreds more will be positively affected and inspired by knowing this amazing woman.<br />
<br />
Krystal, I love you! Thank you for being such a dear friend.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpljK-28-5x_L2xxbUME6_cWAPJXwFuHHLo5HZ1MElemp2HpKeioC3LKMPotjD6M2qnvSjdbwMvy6eoEMxXB9VNYqogwuLEdfQVrDJwvFEDIIjI4BL6LoYisxpPE6qZ6fDcuoNTW9P2Mw/s1600/DSC_0653c.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpljK-28-5x_L2xxbUME6_cWAPJXwFuHHLo5HZ1MElemp2HpKeioC3LKMPotjD6M2qnvSjdbwMvy6eoEMxXB9VNYqogwuLEdfQVrDJwvFEDIIjI4BL6LoYisxpPE6qZ6fDcuoNTW9P2Mw/s400/DSC_0653c.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL67H5VU_VPOlpq4TamGFdK_kPMnVbT_yyL6XRkhNtMJek8fcHiRWsH1aGjSD4CzlG37xpQYLVDI9eSXlL9kairDAriSIroEK4RUj_AUBVyCch5BvjCot4lQR2ehwrBgzjkI2L-Tznzh0/s1600/DSC_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL67H5VU_VPOlpq4TamGFdK_kPMnVbT_yyL6XRkhNtMJek8fcHiRWsH1aGjSD4CzlG37xpQYLVDI9eSXlL9kairDAriSIroEK4RUj_AUBVyCch5BvjCot4lQR2ehwrBgzjkI2L-Tznzh0/s400/DSC_0006.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1