Marriage – Page 12 – Letters from Home

Lost

I lost the diamond from my wedding ring today. I had been everywhere inside and outside the house. I was calm, but felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Things have not been easy lately, but I have felt supported and strengthened by unseen hands. I knew that I would find the diamond if it was important that I did.

So I prayed, and asked myself if it was important.

I knew that the diamond didn’t define my marriage. I knew that Richard wouldn’t be angry. I lost it because I was working so hard that I didn’t even notice that my ring was smashed, the prongs all askew.

As I searched the gravel of our yard and through boxes and shelves in the garage, I tried to gain the courage to not tell Richard until we had money again, maybe in 15 years or so.

I thought of all the women I know who have lost a diamond. I thought of the reward I would offer the movers if they found it.

My kids helped me look, and somehow I knew it had to be in the gravel in the front yard, which meant that it was gone forever. I pulled out one of the several rings that Richard has given me over the years and slipped it on my finger, ready to live without my wedding ring.

But then Timothy ran inside. He was holding the diamond, not daring to believe that he had found it. It was in the gravel in our front yard. When I hugged him, I felt his heart racing. What a lovey. I hugged and kissed everyone and said another prayer.

I guess that it was important to find it. Although I knew that my marriage and my faith didn’t hinge on the diamond, I was reminded that I’m known and loved. God is in the details of our lives.

This has been a summer of miracles for me and our family. In my efforts to be in charge of my life, I have been humbled as I have had evidence that it’s not my hands which control what happens. That’s a great comfort, because I’m pretty weak and shortsighted.

Wedding Day

We were married before most people in this picture had an email address.

Our first home didn’t have a computer and we couldn’t imagine a need for cell phones.

Obviously, when we were engaged, we didn’t make it “Facebook official.”

We have no digital photos of our wedding day and the only video footage we have is on VHS.

Our car had no air conditioning and I had still not had braces or my wisdom teeth pulled.

Gasoline was $1.30 a gallon. I think stamps were $0.34.

Four of the six children in the front row are now married, two are parents, one has a mission call, and the youngest graduates from high school this month.

Several of our relatives in this picture have passed away.

At this time, neither Richard nor I had earned a college degree. Only one of us had a job for the summer. We moved to a new state and our important belongings easily fit in the trunk.

In many ways, it doesn’t seem like 17 years have passed, but when I look at the life we have now, I see how much has changed. It’s true that the most important choice you ever make is the person you marry, and I appreciate the impact of the decision more each year. I am so grateful that he asked and that I said yes.

We didn’t have much, but we had each other, and that was and has always been everything I wanted.

I’ll choose these memories

Last week I had sad news from extended family and weird challenges sprang up around me. I felt heavy and sorrowful. On the other hand, I had good news, too, and there were opportunities for me to serve and feel needed and this made me happy.

Someday when I look back at this time in my life it will be a smudged, incoherent image because of all of the activity, but I will work to see that the good memories will rise up and be more prominent than the bad.

I will remember how Mark’s little drawings cheer me. I will remember the love I feel for the people around me, of the fun times with the Young Women playing black light volleyball and hearing them sing.

I’ll remember how I much I enjoy Richard’s dinners from the grill and chats with him during a baseball game. I’ll think of the way Timothy twirls his hair when he reads to me and how Daniel looks when he’s acting grown up and unselfish. I will remember the way the little ballerinas watch Paige sweep into the dance studio and how she smiles when Richard teases her.

I’ll remember the good people who serve my family in the community, sports, and church.

I will be grateful for a husband who lets me sleep in and remembers to kiss me goodbye every morning.

The difficult things will just serve as a counterpoint, essential in emphasizing the good and forming character, but they won’t take a prominent place on the mantel.

Now I’m going to get back to work.

Ideas and objects, spirit and body

This may not resonate with anyone but me, but this is what I have observed: when I’m faced with a big idea or task, the tiny actions of the day can take on more meaning. Menial tasks somehow create a focus to help me face the bigger dilemma. My unhurried mind, taking a break during the task, more easily comes up with solutions.

I recently reread a book about feminine psychology as it is expressed in mythology. One of the lessons from the myth of Psyche was that sorting objects is one of the best strategies that women can employ when they are faced with a challenge.

Maybe there is a link between sorting objects and sorting ideas. One can’t find meaning for either if they are done independently. Our minds must work, but so must our bodies because we are dual beings, spirit and body.

I’m focusing on my homemaking tasks and grading papers. I am taking moments here and there to study and pray. It’s a good process for me and I count it as one of my greatest blessings that I have the freedom to do it. I am grateful to Richard for providing me with a lifestyle that allows for my creativity, education, personal advancement and fulfillment. My life includes long days of sorting socks, organizing closets, and building machines for my children to experience physics while I think about things.

I hope your sorting of ideas and objects helps you find meaning today.

The Birthday list

I’ve heard it said that true love is when you care for a person for who he is and not for what he does for you. However, when I take the time to look at all the good things that Richard does for our family and for me, his actions and his identity are inseparable. I appreciate him because he does so much, but I love him because of the person he has become through these acts of sacrifice.

Here are a few of the good things that I have observed Richard do over the past 8 days:

He was a merit badge counselor at a Scout event on Saturday and prepared an awesome activity with lasers.

He drove Daniel and another boy to piano rehearsals during his lunch break at the Scout event.

He prepared a talk and was a Stake high council speaker for another congregation on Sunday.

He made dinner for us on Sunday because I was busy feeling devastated about something.

He babysat while I attended a new member fireside.

He went to work each day and one night he stayed up to midnight working from home.

He drove Paige to seminary at 6:40 a.m. each school day.

He conducted Family Home Evening and gathered us for family prayers.

He attended a district Scout meeting before picking up Paige from ballet.

He attended a baseball parent meeting with Daniel.

He ate my brownies and remembered to compliment them.

He babysat while I went to youth activities on Wednesday night.

He washed the windows of the house and enlisted the help of his sons so they could learn to work.

He mowed the lawn.

He organized the garage.

He sprayed the weeds and sprayed for bugs.

He cleaned the back patio.

He chopped up branches from our thorny trees for disposal, also enlisting the sons for help.

He made a movie to show at the youth fundraiser on Friday night.

He helped set up for the youth fundraiser and donated generously.

He helped clean up the fundraiser and mopped the church cultural hall.

He tutored Paige in math for four hours on his day off and smiled about it.

He watched a romantic comedy with me for our date night.

On another night, he took me out to dinner.

He was the first to get up when he heard one of our kids vomiting in the middle of the night.

He went to church meetings which began at 6 a.m. even though he’d been up in the middle of the night with sick children.

He drove a new member to church.

He’s on his way home to take care of the sick kids so I can attend Young Women meeting.

Dear Birthday boy,
I know it's not an ideal day, but I'm sure glad you are here to
share it with me. Happy birthday, Rich. I love you.
-A

Valentine’s Day offerings

Richard treated me to this necklace for Valentine’s Day. I found it at the Gem and Mineral Show. Paige says the stones remind her of pomegranate fruits. The necklace has some weight, but it feels better than any of the plastic bead necklaces that I own.

One day I had a conversation with a grandmother about rocks. She pulled out a rock from her collection of treasures and had me hold the smooth, contoured stone until it warmed in my hand. “Now that’s a Good Rock, isn’t it?” she said. I’m not sure what made it a good rock, but I had to agree. The stone had imparted some sort of stability which was comforting. Maybe I was starved for something natural in my hands.

Some of you may wonder what I’m talking about, but that’s just because you haven’t experienced this yet.

My Valentine’s Day stone necklace has the same quality as my grandmother’s good rock.

I gave my Valentine 40 completed Nutcracker DVD orders. I know, you can’t believe I would post such a romantic gesture on the internet!

Stunning picture

Thanks, Susan for sharing so many family photos with us. I really loved the ones of Violet and Joe. Looking at this picture makes me want to have my photograph taken more often in the hopes that somebody will remember me as young and not just an oldie.

When was the last time you had your photo taken with your sweetheart?

When was the last time you sat outside together like this?

Sigh. We’re due for some of that.

The Folks

We’ve been entertaining guests. Since we are not very good at conversation or selling ourselves as interesting (I’m convinced it’s all in the selling… ), we compensate by eating interesting food when company comes. Richard smoked some ribs and chicken. We feasted on various things and ate a few pounds of Utah candy. It was nice to have Richard’s parents at our place.

We celebrated our 16th anniversary by having our portrait taken. It’s one of our best. I fell asleep as I was putting Mark to bed and didn’t find my anniversary gift on my bedside table until the day after, confirming that I am just as awesome a wife as this picture portrays.

A New Playbill and a Terrible Stench

I’m up late boiling red cabbage (I bet you just repressed a gag reflex) to make an acid-base indicator for a science class I’m teaching tomorrow.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…

Wait. That’s the wrong play.

Richard and I saw Wicked today at Centennial Hall.

….fire burn and cauldron bubble…

(Ugh! the smell!)

So, we enjoyed Wicked. I knew very little about the show but I think this allowed me to experience the play unhindered by previous expectations and experiences. It was a thrill.

The night I got burned

I used to cook with a pressure cooker all the time. One night I was making mashed potatoes and there was a lot going on. As I was running water over the pot and opening the valve to release steam, the lid burst off and potatoes flew out on my face and hands.

I learned the hard way about being in the way when high pressure objects go flying.

It’s so cliche to hear people saying it’s okay to say grumpy things in order to “let off steam.” I think this is a poor excuse to behave badly and spread the anger. It’s better to release steam slowly and allow time for high impact moments to die down before words are said. The last few months have brought some intense situations and I’ve learned to appreciate Richard’s wisdom through it all.

Since I’m not complaining in this post or “venting frustration” in a negative way, I will say a few words of gratitude. I’m thankful for a little knowledge of logic. This has helped me identify error and truth in what people say. I’m grateful for the teachings of Jesus Christ as a guide for reacting to people who have been grumpy to me about my faith. I’m grateful for Richard who spent the weekend with me, talking to me, listening, and encouraging me. His steady and direct words have made a great difference.

Anger fills a room, exclusive in its dominion; it drains its object of self-confidence; anger finds its expression in gossip, name-calling, and humiliation of others; it is contagious. It hurts like a burn, too.