Matters of Life and Death

I attended a funeral today for a friend who had a lifetime of impact on everyone he met--and in my view-- particularly to my children and the boys of our ward while they were growing up. Bill was only 51, and his death was unexpected. Like my young mother years ago, he suffered a massive heart attack and slipped away as his wife and paramedics helplessly tried to save him. Today we all joined to laugh and cry and bid Bill good-bye for now. His sister-in-law spoke of Bill as a "rescuer" and told the legendary story of Bill and the "bear can." We laughed as we recognized the Bill we knew in the words that honored him. One morning a few years ago, my friend April and I were on our morning walk. It was very early. The only living that were awake seemed to be us, some birds and insects, and some barking dogs. We walked down the street in front of the Abbotts'. Across the road from them lived a couple of women (that's another story) who had show dogs, and that morning, as we walked by, their German shepherd came over the fence, right at us--growling and barking. I was petrified and prepared to die. April was braver, but there may have been a slight amount of screaming. As we stood, frozen to the ground with fear, Bill came flying from his house like Superman on a mission. He grabbed the dog and pulled him to the ground, speaking firmly and returning the unfriendly canine to his own backyard. Bill rescued us another time when we had frozen faucets in our new house. There he was and refusing to take money. It is always a time to consider the fragile nature of life. You never know if you will live to be ninety like my friend Donna or be called home in what seems like an young and untimely death. Bill affected many lives, including mine. He was a force for life and laughter and service and family and scouting and love for others. Good-bye for now, Bill.

Matters of Age and Wisdom

I have a delightful 90-year-old friend named Donna. She is spunky and inspirational and indominable. Last month she collapsed while working out at the Fitness Center and was rushed to the hospital where doctors inserted a pacemaker and sent her home to continue to make the world a better place. When I visited her, she said, "I don't know why the Lord doesn't just take me home. I guess I still have lessons to learn." I hardly think so, Donna! Besides her mission as a young woman, she served three additional missions with her sweetheart Arvil, and together they raised seven children. She has many grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews with their children, and neighbors and friends around the world. When I met Donna seven years ago she was still working as a kindergarten aide at an inner-city school and manning the counter at Burger King in the evenings! When Arvil died a few years ago, Donna took disabled veterans into her home to care for them! Ron died, and veteran Bill took his place in Donna's care last year. Donna's nephew was in need and homeless, so he is living there now, too. Donna drives them to appointments and feeds them three times a day. She is a visiting teacher, an inspiration in every Sunday class, and a guiding force at book club. So I say, "Donna, you are still here not because you have lessons yet to learn but because so many of us still have lessons to learn from you!"

Matters of New Starts

The holidays are almost over and tomorrow is that magical day of new starts, do-overs, and hope for the fabulous! A couple of times in my life I have actually written down new year's resolutions and crossed them off as I accomplished them. Of course, I never get skinny or exercise every day, but despite those "un-crossed-off" items, I do love new starts and setting up goals. So, I have spent three days cleaning and organizing my basement. Through the last seven years of living in our house. we have had all but one of our seven children living downstairs and leaving boxes of their things intentionally and a few things unintentionally. It was time for a thorough clean up. Forcing my children to take charge of their own junk was the hard part. Four loads to DI and a truckload to the dump later, the unfinished room in my basement looks ready to be finished. What a great "new start!"

Inevitably I am also starting a diet and a renewed commitment to Curves. I would also like to start walking and use those Zumba DVDs I got for Christmas 2010, but I would hate to make too many new starts! I will consider it.

There are always the money goals... I have enough, so...

2012: a year of new starts, gentle intentions, and faith

Technology Matters

Cameron called me yesterday to say he was “so MAD at Dad” for leaving his cell phone home. Isn’t it funny how dependent we become on technology? We get so used to being able to contact anyone at any time that it is frustrating when we cannot reach someone. If my computer is a little slow, I get irritated. If my husband’s mailbox is full (which it always is because he does not know how to check voice mail or delete messages!), I get aggravated with him. We expect the answer to any question at the tip our fingers online and instant contact by email, Facebook, or Twitter. We have all seen the latest sensations or the funniestLucy episode on YouTube. We are embarrassed to ask the five-year-old how to move to the next level on a game. Bowling now means flicking your wrist with a controller to send a virtual ball hurling toward virtual pins. I was not nice when I had to re-write electronic forms so that I could type on them (twice this week!). This is the technology age. It is making me impatient, intolerant, and demanding. In this techie world, we must still work with people. We must be patient, tolerant, and accepting. I wonder if I can find instructions for that online…

Matters of Faith

I find it interesting that a Baptist preacher gets so much press from declaring (backed up by the Southern Baptist Confernce) that Mormons are a cult and are not Christians. Why does any group get to say whether this church or that church is not Christian? I, a Mormon, belong to the Chruch of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I declare myself a follower of Jesus Christ, my Savior and Redeemer. I believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ. I declare that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints was founded not by a man as the preacher says but by Jesus Christ who was also head of the ancient Church. Joseph Smith was his prophet, called as was Moses. I declare my belief in the Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ, as well as the Bible, as far as it is translated correctly. Other declared Christians can in all validity say that Mormons are not Evangelicals; Mormons are not Protestants; Mormons are not Baptists--but they have no right to say that Mormons are not Christians. I would not decide that Baptists or Methodists are not Christians because they do not follow every doctrine that I embrace. 11th Article of Faith: "We claim the privilege of worshipping Almighty God, according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege. Let them worship how, where, and what they may." I love and support all who claim Christ as their Savior and Redeemer and support their right to claim the title of Christian, as I do for myself and Mormons around the world.

Matters of Civility

Sometimes our course is set by the immediate needs of the children before us. When we see a child in pain, ridiculed, belittled, we reach out to do whatever is in our power to correct it. And so it was this last week at Copper Hills. A rather strange little girl, odd and different in so many ways, was the object of a cruel game perpetrated by her classmates. They were mocking her, name calling, poking, and pushing. Not only one or two students joined in, but whole classes sided against this singular child. Her teacher wondered what could be done. I called the District’s attorney and the head of student services. Bullying. What is to be done when it is 94 against one? The lawyer took it personally as the father of children on the autism spectrum. The teacher was heart-broken that her students could be involved in such unkindness. The girl and her mother, sadly, said it was okay—they were used to it. It was not okay! We had a meeting with all the students to appeal to their hearts and minds because it is not ever okay to stand by while one child hurts. It is our duty and our choice to make a difference to the one and to the 94.

Matters of Age

Eighty does not seem as old as it used to! Yesterday we joined family to celebrate my mother-in-law’s 80th birthday. We sat and watched a video collage of her life from the time she was small. Time sped by on the screen. There was Jim as a baby in his mother’s arms and then in his first suit, off to Easter dinner with his family. Evidence of traditions touched each picture. Who knew that Audrey loved horses as a teenager in Victor, Idaho, under the Tetons? Now recovering miraculously from a broken foot, Audrey does not seem old, not eighty, but there are 80 years scrolling by as a girl, wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. I think of all the service she gave to scouting, the children she raised besides her own, and the twists and turns of life that made her into the woman she is today. Eighty years and counting!