I am thinking in lists these days. Paragraphs are too much work. Here is what I will remember about our weekend.
Apple harvest and preparation
A Poldark episode with a happy ending
Solar salesmen with long presentations
Gladys Knight, Vocal Point, And Lexie Walker at the BYU Homecoming Spectacular
Mark’s Primary program at church and his piano duet with Richard
I have decided to share a few things Richard and I discussed recently about what makes our marriage work. Really, this list could be summed up in two words, love and respect. But in more detail, we try to…
Marriage has a private life in our hearts and minds. Its success seems to come with a conscious effort to school our thoughts and actions. Feelings of love are a natural result of kindness and loyalty, but real love is so much better than infatuation. It is knowing we have a best friend. It is being a best friend. Sometimes our thinking must change if we are to learn to love truly and deeply. We are still learning.
Richard was going to work a few hours from home today, and I just finished reading the book, Far From the Madding Crowd. I decided to watch the movie by myself on Vid Angel. He sat down to watch the first scene with me and immediately liked what he saw. Work was forgotten and we spent the afternoon watching this beautiful adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s novel together.
It’s good, good, good. It is certainly not as rich as the book, but the cinematography is as beautiful as Thomas Hardy’s descriptions. Most of the lead actors are just right, especially Gabriel Oak and Bathsheba Everdeen.
We’ve been a family for 21 years, and Richard continues to remember and tell us about different jobs he has had. We’ll drive by a pizza place and he’ll say, “I worked at a pizza place once.” Or we will walk into a print shop and he can talk the lingo because he “worked a summer at Kinko’s.” Recently I found a paper where I had jotted down a master list of all the jobs he could remember one day. I am sure there are more, but this is a start.
I am thankful for Richard’s abilities and interests. I am thankful that he has a desire to work. I see his sacrifices for our family. For many years, he has left very early, before most of us are awake, to drive a long way and work a long day. We are a team, and while it’s his paycheck that pays for everything, I know that because I am home he doesn’t have to worry about many things. I can’t remember a morning when he didn’t kiss me goodbye before he walked out the door. When he comes home to a meal and an orderly house, it’s because I respect what he offers our family. The kids always leave the last cookie for Dad. It’s the least we can do for a guy who has worked so hard for so long.
?Richard read this post and told me that I missed one. He worked at another print shop, making the number an even 20.
This was our very belated 20th anniversary celebration, and the first time we have been away for more than a night from the kids… ever. It was a good trip and I won’t bore you with captions. Anyone who has been to Washington D.C. has the same photos. We stayed in a basement apartment a few blocks from the U.S. Capitol building. We rode public transportation and walked. We tried our first Nutella shake. We attended a concert in the Kennedy Center. We were cold and bought a blanket, stocking hats, ear muffs, gloves, a thermos for hot chocolate, and a scarf over the course of the week. We saw 7 airports, and were 24 hours late getting home because of a canceled flight. We spent the night in Denver, which was certainly not part of our original plan, but all well.
We were looking at monuments and great works of art, then last night I found myself back home making spaghetti. The memories of this trip will keep my mind occupied for a long time. Richard planned the trip and we filled every minute with discovery.
Last week we finally celebrated Timothy’s birthday, one month late, with his friends at an arcade. I baked some cupcakes just minutes before his friends arrived. I was thankful for the arcade. It was a redemption from Timothy’s frustration and a compensation for my lack of the fun gene in my DNA.
I had a mouth full of ulcers last week and these cankers were bad enough to put me to bed for about a day. Richard ran to the store for milk. The next day when I was feeling better, I bought milk before checking the refrigerator. When I got home from the store, I discovered that we had a combined total of 11 gallons of milk. Ha!
I received an email from the piano teacher asking me to monitor my child’s piano practice better. I don’t know how I am going to do that.
I gave my gray stocking hat to one of my sons who was sledding with friends. I watched him tuck it into his pocket rather than put it on his head as he walked away from me. Now the hat is missing.
I tried to register Daniel for EFY summer camp only to discover that we had lost and forgotten his passwords to get into the site. I called and waited on hold for an hour, and was scolded by the operator for my attempts to get around my lost password problem. “You shouldn’t have done that. Now it will take more time to fix it.” And later, “Oh, I’ll just register you myself,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you!” I said, genuinely grateful. Exhaustion had set in and I was docile as a lamb.
There was a prescription which took two days to acquire for one of the boys, including a trip to the doctor and 3 trips to the pharmacy. The clerk at the pharmacy was so helpful. I felt like she really understood, and I was so thankful.
We arrived at church separately, as usual, because of meetings, and we couldn’t find one another. Richard saved a place for me and I saved a place for him. We sat apart for a good portion of church before Richard found us.
I was late in renewing the library books again. It’s a good thing I am taking another violin student next month to help fund my forgetfulness. And the books aren’t even that good. They are fact books about Utah.
I took Mark to a book store during a lunch break and the clerk asked me why he wasn’t in school. It seemed odd to me that she was worried about his education. I was buying a stack of books for him! I just smiled and reassured her. In my mind I chanted, “I’m a good parent, I am a good parent, I am a good parent.”
And my definition of a good parent is someone who keeps trying, day after day, through all the challenges…and fun…and adventure.
When Richard proposed, he gave me a diamond solitaire. He said that we would reset the diamond in a setting that I chose. I had never thought about wedding rings and the diamond was more than I would have chosen for myself. It was beautiful. One day someone came up to my counter where I was working at the mall and caught me admiring it. I didn’t see them there because I had hypnotized myself with the patterns of light reflecting from the facets of the diamond. When I looked up, startled, the customer just smiled and said something like, “My, what a pretty ring you have.” My face probably became ashen and then crimson within seconds.
Richard and I shopped around at several jewelry stores to see what we wanted. I decided that I wanted a simple wedding band with small diamonds to go with the solitaire. The jeweler that Richard had used was in Salt Lake City, so after we decided what we liked, we needed to travel there to have the setting made.
We left campus on a dreary January day as soon as our classes were over, around noon, to drive to Salt Lake City to make the final arrangements for our wedding rings. We were in Richard’s small red Toyota hatchback. As we drove north, the weather grew worse. Wet, slushy snow was falling and we hit a patch of ice on the freeway. We slid, spinning, from the far right lanes, across the freeway, to land on the far left side, our car facing oncoming traffic. I don’t know how we were so isolated that we didn’t hit anyone and Richard was able to right the car before we were hit. This happened one more time on that trip, with nearly the same spin and the same miraculous result of no harm.
I was young and that feeling of invincibility hadn’t worn off. I knew that we had been in a scary situation, but I didn’t marvel enough at the time how we had been protected.
The day’s adventure continued when we stepped into the jeweler’s shop and selected the setting, a wedding band, and Richard’s ring. The jeweler quickly set my diamond in the new setting while we waited. I had gathered almost all of my savings from the bank and carried it in cash to buy Richard’s ring. When I handed the man the cash, he seemed uncomfortable to handle it and excused himself to try to find some change at the restaurant next door. I didn’t have a credit card and his behavior made me feel foolish and immature, like a little girl who had broken her piggy bank full of pennies and nickels and dumped them on his counter. That wasn’t far from the truth. It was my savings from my childhood. I learned that day that when you’re buying fine jewelry, it’s best to use a credit card.
Richard reassured me that it was okay. He was good at that. As we drove back to Provo, we didn’t have any more trouble with ice. We were one step closer to being married and after my mortification over the cash was over, I could enjoy the new ring on my finger.
It was a week of music for our family. We watched Daniel play in his first bell choir concert. His current bell assignment is to play some of the big bass bells. He says playing these bells is like pouring out a full gallon of milk with each note, your wrist and forearms carefully managing the weight. In other words, they are heavy. I felt Christmas drift through the air as they played, even though these weren’t Christmas pieces. December will be a busy month for bells and they will be playing at Temple Square. I am really looking forward to that.
The boys had a piano recital. Daniel played Preludium in E minor by Felix Mendelssohn. Timothy played Little Story by Sergei Prokofieff. Mark played Etude in A minor by Dmitri Kabalevsky. (Like those names mean anything…) I know the pieces just by the tunes. I rarely learn the names and composers, but I sing along in my head to every piece, well-learned by echoes moving through the house at all hours.
I did Relief Society things. Lots of that, but the specific lessons I am learning and the heartache and loneliness that I am exposed to is part of a private journey that I am taking with some sisters. We can all be more aware of, prayerful, and helpful to others.
In general, I spoke at a Relief Society meeting, participated in a ward council meeting, and presented specific ways to involve women in decisions and discussions and how to improve in ministering to others; I also counseled with the Bishop in a private meeting. I wrote, helped set up tables, washed linens, baked, and cooked. I texted, wrote letters, and talked on the phone. I hugged people who were crying and received counsel about how to do things better. I visited a sister late one night. I listened and admired. I thought hard and made plans. I used my calligraphy skills. I drew strength from scripture study and prayer and hugs from Richard. Please don’t think I am bragging. I am painting a picture of our life. I am not unique in what I do.
On Saturday Richard and I joined my sister Sarah and her husband Bryan for dinner at Lamb’s and the symphony.
Daniel played the organ in church on Sunday. A sister on our row in church lifted her infant son dressed in a flannel shirt and I remembered Daniel at that age wearing a flannel shirt. I looked at the contrast between this infant and Daniel at the organ and marveled at the time that has passed without effort. I held that tall young man in my arms not so long ago.
We visited Paige for a few minutes on Sunday night and as always I asked to see some of her art. This was one of her doodles-in-progress, not for an art class. She is critical of it, but there is LIFE in this drawing. I had to share it.
Also, even her scrap pieces of paper with color gradations and paint mixes could be hung on the wall. I smile every time I visit the dorms because the windows and walls are more decorated each time. Twinkle lights, banners, flags representing mission calls to other countries, and little touches of homemaking are creeping into each unit.
And finally, there is Timothy, who goes to school in the dark early hours for jazz band practice. I bought him some new black shoes and black socks to wear with shorts because that’s what you wear now, at least in middle school. It looked strange at first, like they forgot to change out of their dress socks, but I’m good with it now.
Oh, and Halloween is this Saturday and Mark and I have not made any progress on his costume. Aaack!
This post might be TMI but I don’t feel like editing out pieces of our story today like I usually do.
I finished a book this week about the impact that different women have made on the world. One of the women in the book was Mother Theresa. It wasn’t the many deeds of service that she did that made the biggest impression on me. It was her words about sometimes feeling distant from God as she did good works. I have felt that way this week and other times.
In my life I expect that service and scripture study will make me feel light and happy, but that doesn’t always happen. I have learned that if we want to become like the Savior, it means that we will have days where we become acquainted with grief, a little like the Savior, who was also a “man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” And that feeling of distance from God may not always be a feeling of distance. Perhaps at times it’s a closeness to what He feels for his children, and sometimes that is grief. Of course there is always a distance between me and God, and this leads me to see how much I need the gift of grace.
I have no regrets for my time spent in the scriptures and service, even if I don’t always feel warm and fuzzy about it. I DO have regrets about my time spent doing frivolous things. 24 hours really is a lot of time each day to get things done. How much time I waste, worrying what other people think of me and following news that isn’t important!