Category: Adventurous kids

Spring Lake Thanksgiving


New rock walls under rain showed their deeper colors and cleaner surfaces, and with a backdrop of new spruce trees and freshly gathered leaves, vintage decor reminded us of loved ones now gone. Little feet ran to familiar haunts as small hands appeared from below, reaching for good bites to eat. Men discussed the carving of the birds as women finished whipping potatoes and set out fruit and rolls. A cousin confessed she had been looking forward to eating this pie for weeks. Quiet readers emerged from the corners to fill plates before retreating again, and tween cousins, too full after appetizers, chose the smallest portions. Each in turn, we named something we are thankful for. I heard myself say with a cheer and hands held high, “I am thankful for a missionary!” There were quiet declarations and strong, and all were sincere. And just like that, the meal was over, the many hours of labor, consumed in minutes. This year, we didn’t wait to serve the pies.

While parents slept, Grandma gathered children for gingerbread house decorating. And the Christmas season began.

Dark so early, we slowed down as the sun sank and we watched Charlie Brown Mayflower Voyagers and snickered through Snowball Express. This year, we delayed watching White Christmas and visited instead. As we should.

This year, we stayed two nights, cuddled under handmade quilts and fleece blankets, without alarm clocks. Blessed rest.

Home again, the busy task of decorating began, one box, one string of lights after another, until the house was full of cheer. And thoughts of Daniel were everywhere, in the ornaments, the food, and the music. Tears are not incompatible with joy. Tim took an early morning drive in the first snow with a driving instructor, and I mailed my last Christmas package as the post office opened. But mostly, we stayed home, feeling peaceful and bright.

Boulders, a Wedding Crasher, Pimpernel, and White Gloves

A month and a half ago, the mudslide at Spring Lake looked like this. But after more rain, it became clear that this mud was also full of boulders and rocks. My dad is a master with rock walls. The mountain couldn’t have gifted these to a better recipient.

(The family has been trying to dig out trees from the mud to save them.)

 

While the men and boys worked on the dirt and rock project, I organized the library at my parents’ house. The Sanchez family is a family of builders, minus me. I just like to be zen and organize decor.

I crashed a wedding gathering this week so I could see Paige as a bridesmaid at the Salt Lake temple. I sat in the sun on a bench on the south side of the temple, warm and bright, and couldn’t imagine anything I would rather be doing. I didn’t take any photos of the wedding party because I wanted the moment for myself. Plus, I shouldn’t have been there. The less evidence the better.

A friend took me to see this play this week and we ate Peppermint Crunch Junior Mints. Delightful. Except I can’t erase the guillotine scenes from my mind. HOW did they do that?

Mark had a band concert this week and Tim was a guest artist since they needed trombones. Ha! He and his two friends sat at least a head taller than the middle school kids. But he had his own dressing room with pizza. Mark has taken to wearing white gloves when he plays his trumpet. He is pretty dapper sometimes.

Catching up

Mark was honored as an Eastmont Patriot of the Month for citizenship, leadership, scholarship, and extra-curricular activities. Woot!

I helped make this quilt for a new baby in the neighborhood.

Every conversation at our house includes a status update on my massive painting project and Richard’s apple harvest. I stopped counting gallons of paint, but Richard knows exactly how many pounds of apples were produced.

Court of Honor

Missionary

BYU Homecoming Spectacular 3rd row seats. Awesome!

It’s Inktober for Paige on Instagram.

ONE page of a piece Timothy is working on. Legit!

Did I mention I am painting a lot? It feels like our house is finally becoming our own. I waited a long time to paint because I knew what a big job it would be and I didn’t have the time. So far, I have spent about 17 full days on it. I have not had this kind of time…ever in my life to devote to such a project. Someday I might post “after” pictures, but you could also come and visit.

Tim’s Great Game

He scores!

photo credit: Dean Brockbank

It was a glorious morning on Saturday with sun, pleasant temperatures, and a great Frisbee game to watch. Timothy is fast and made some great catches. His position is like wide receiver in football. He runs down the field for the long passes and there is a lot of glory when he scores points.

New School Year

On the first day of seventh grade and tenth grade, I realized that summer wasn’t long enough. The routines were too familiar; the boys slipped into old patterns and we drove down the hill like summer never happened. “But wait,” I thought, as Mark left the car, “I really like having you around.” And when Timothy left the car, I decided to take the long drive home so I could be a little bit sad. Yes, yes, it’s all peachy and good they go to school. Yes, yes, they will grow and learn and have independence. Blah, blah, blah. Research, resilience, lights, socially adjusted and so forth. But for me, it feels like a continuation of a lonely, weary road today.

Payson temple

We decided to attend the temple as a family, all six of us at the same time. My parents came with us and we did ordinances for some particularly dear family members who are deceased. Some spent time in the baptistry. Mark had names he had discovered himself at the family history library plus one other special name we have been waiting for permission to do. Others spent time in a session. Daniel and Richard carried names Daniel found when he was twelve years old. It was an especially sweet day at the Payson temple. The name cards had been well-traveled, with some ordinances in Arizona, others in Draper, and now Payson. I was really affected by the experience and I was glad that I still had tissues in my pocket from a different day in the temple. I wish we had taken a picture, but we got separated and things were a little hectic getting there. My mom figured we had some challenges getting to the temple because it was the right thing to do. Amen.

New lenses

At 2:15 on Monday, I captured the kids doing these things and asked them to pretend I wasn’t taking pictures.

Richard dreads the idea of having to wear glasses, but I have worn them since I was nine or ten years old and know how great it is to have vision restored. Like Richard, though, I sometimes fight the different lenses I need to take on with time: the lens of experience in saying goodbye at college or a mission, the lens of what it’s like to sit with someone who is in pain, and the lens to look outward when my own troubles want to dominate my view. The lenses of experience with disappointment, repentance, and wisdom after stupidity are particularly difficult to assume sometimes.

I think the most difficult thing I ever did was say goodbye to my friends who went on missions. Three best friends left within a year and I was shaken emotionally and physically. For this reason, I worried what it would be like to send Daniel, who is more dear to me, on a mission. I have my moments, of course, but I have something I didn’t have when I said goodbye to my friends when I was 18 and 19 years old. The lenses I have acquired over time teach me that a mission is not just a goodbye. It is everything good. I have seen it again and again. I am really as peaceful about this as I have ever felt over a big transition. I felt it when he read his call to me. I feel it now, even though we have less than a week left together. It is peace not earned by personal experience, since I have never sent a son before, but it’s evidence of a generous God.