I love commencements, commemorations, lists, and encapsulating things. I’m an organizer, and the close of the year makes me itchy to craft a denouement for the year’s events.
Richard thinks that 2012 was our biggest year. I feel tired just thinking about all that we have done. Maybe I’m too tired to write the perfect summation, but I will try to give words to some of my thoughts about our year.
2012 was the end of an era for us. We had spent 15 years living outside of Utah and now we had an opportunity to come home. Our hearts weren’t always drawn to Utah. We loved the adventures that we found on our own and the people in Texas and Arizona. But our perceptions and needs changed in the past few years, making the answer to an offer to move to Salt Lake an obvious “Yes!”
With our move, we found that we could now drop in on Grandma when we felt like it and be at family events, big and small. No longer would temples be hours away; we could now drive 10 or 15 minutes and find ourselves in a temple of our choice. Our Utah neighbors are also fellow ward members, and this added dimension of relationship makes me realize how much I missed being understood and known by my neighbors in other states.
2012 brought us back to community. When we made the decision to put the kids in public school, it broke my heart, but we were strongly and explicitly led by the Spirit in our decision. I gave up cherished career. All I ever wanted to do was teach and be with my kids, and for 11 years I felt blessed that I could do it. The compensation for my personal sense of loss is this concept of community. I find a lot of fulfillment helping with reading and homework in the school. I love the halls of our elementary school. I love the teachers. I love the kids. On my birthday, which also happened to be election day, I sat in the hallway of the school, listening to children read to me. A steady flow of people came through the doors, heading to the polls. I had only been in town for 2 months, but I knew so many of those people because I had met them at school and church. These people knew me as a neighbor and a ward member, and many had helped counsel me as we made the decision to change to public school. Their warm hellos that day were a perfect gift.
My heart, while yearning for my children, has been filled with a love for those who teach them. I have learned that being a community member isn’t just about giving, it’s about receiving, too. The generosity and power of this community centers in the church and schools. I had watched our Arizona community splinter over education, an effect of which was manifested in my group of young women who didn’t know one another because almost every girl attended a different form of school. Although I knew and respected the circumstances for all of these different school choices, I was sorry that the girls were missing an element of community in their lives. I also watched the already sparse home schooling community splinter over a religious divide. I didn’t realize how divided our previous community was until I jumped into our new one.
You readers know how much we tried to be valuable community members during our years our home schooling, and you will also know how much we loved our previous neighbors. Our new community and decisions about schools are based on current and personal needs. It does not erase the love we had for people wherever we lived or diminish the experiences we enjoyed in home school. We have learned to respect personal decisions about education.
2012 brought a change in Richard’s career path, a culmination of many years of effort in his field. Nobody outside work really knows what Richard does, but it involves signal processing and communications, and he is good at it. He’s doing things in his new job that he has wanted to do for years. Hooray for our quiet hero, our breadwinner and anchor in our home.
2012 brought extreme physical, emotional, and spiritual demands. I am still dealing with a bit of anxiety which began after I got heat stroke during youth conference. Richard and I found that living in different states for so many weeks during the move drew us closer emotionally. The kids had to stretch in enormous ways as they became acclimated to public school and found new friends. We have had more reasons to ask for priesthood blessings this year than ever, and these blessings have been a real source of strength and help.
2012 had few constants. Our definition and location of our beloved home changed. Our callings changed. In January, I was Young Women president. Richard was on the high council. Now I am a Mia Maid advisor. Richard has a calling to help facilitate the new youth curriculum, i.e. help the new teachers incorporate the videos and teaching methods. We have a new climate. Our wardrobes and bedding have taken completely new forms. We are not together as often. We have new music and dance teachers and a new instrument in our home. We have unannounced visitors all of the time. Even our day for Family Home Evening has had to change. Perhaps the only constants are the people we kiss good night and our faith, but how comforting that through all this change, we have had each other.
We have needed people this year, and family and friends have carried us. Generosity in so many forms has graced our lives. Being a recipient of service helped me to find an appropriate place to put some old anger. We are surrounded by extended family who enrich our lives.
When I told Richard that I would marry him, I remember saying that we’d have a wonderful life together. Who knew what things we would experience over the years, especially during the big year of 2012, but it has been wonderful. I find that although I resist change, learning to embrace each season is a beautiful way to live.
Thank you for reading, blog friends and family. Happy New Year!
Tomorrow is our 18th anniversary. We went out to dinner last night to celebrate and Richard bought me roses.
Paige is working on a painting this weekend at home. It’s from a photograph taken at Pines Ranch when the poppies were in bloom. The little boys and their friends have been avid observers. When she started painting the poppies, celebrations ensued for Mark. One of Timothy’s friends said to me, “Your daughter is a REAL artist.”
