Category: Motherhood

Latent potential

For the first five or six years we lived here, I would pull out the tulip leaves before they would bloom beneath the trees because I was uncomfortable seeing leaves coming up through the periwinkle. We hadn’t planted the bulbs and it just looked messy to me. I didn’t see the potential. One year, I decided to let them come up and bloom and they have astonished me by their beauty ever since.

There are parallels in life. I find that the less I do to pave every path for my teens, the more they find their independence and flourish. It’s not that I give up entirely, but I trust the simple religious practices, family rules, and their foundation in the gospel to be an anchor and a guide. In tulips, the bulb and roots weather the winters, not the leaves and blooms. Latent abilities and futures are waiting to spring forth when conditions are right for tulips and for teens. It’s good to step out of the way and not get frustrated by the random leaves when they start coming up where I did not plant. Teen years, like these flower beds, are a bit messy and haphazard. As Tim approaches graduation, I am in awe at all that he has accomplished. In many ways, he has succeeded because I stopped trying to prune back his many random interests and pastimes.

Light on a Darkened Stage

One of the nicest things someone has done for me lately is to ask to read a short book of family history that I wrote. She not only read it, but took the time to compliment me when she returned it. She asked questions about people and noticed that I had written it when I was raising small children. She said she liked my ancestors. It really made a difference to hear every word from this valued friend.

The time my friend invested to read and tell me good job was like someone shining a light on a dark stage, recently darkened by the passing of my grandmother and our kids growing up. Thank you, J for shining a light.

Things we do when we anticipate a goodbye

Tim spoke in church and it was the longest I have heard his voice in years. He keeps it all to himself, the humor, the insights, the excellence. Some people just don’t show a need for approval, and he is the most independent person I have ever known. In only one class has he asked for help. Even when we were homeschooling, he would take his work to his room and do it alone. I came home from church and took a personal video of the recording of church services so I can hear his voice and his testimony whenever I need it, and I hugged him up and told him how proud I am of him.

Richard went on a trip to Moab with friends over the weekend, and our dog, traumatized by the separation, found a place in his suitcase as he unpacked on Saturday night.

We all self-soothe in some way about anticipated separations. I make a recording and the dog tries to stow away. I have found 3 gray hairs during my life so far. All have happened around the time of high school graduations.

Uneventful, active day

This morning I awoke at 4:30 am and my mind was *on*. My notebook lay on the bedside table and I made the decision to turn on the lamp. Knowing how ideas, like butterflies, go, I wrote down what my mind had to say.

Later, in the human hours of the morning, I tried to deliver some flowers to someone, but her children wouldn’t leave the door to fetch her. Two red haired boys stood mesmerized as they looked at the flowers in my hands, and didn’t seem to understand I was asking to see their mom. Their eyes told me they should be the delivery people, so I handed them to the youngest and most eager, who immediately assumed new decorum as he marched forth. I stopped by to visit my mom for her birthday and found her giggling with her best friend of 30+ years. Lots of hugs today.

Mark and I were left alone tonight, so we ate out at Pizzeria Limone and sipped soda like pals.

I didn’t ask for anything from my grandmother’s home except the gray fox stole from the 1940’s, that is, if no one else wanted it. This and a few other treasures are now home with me. I don’t know if I dare wear the fur in public, but it is keeping me warm this cold evening. It snowed like it was Christmas today.

A year ago today, I was hospitalized and had just lost 53 cm of my small intestine. One minute I was well, and the next, I was not. A year later, I feel blessed to have this uneventful but active day.

Happy 12th Birthday to the Blog

Here we are on Easter. There is Richard who spent the day preparing food in his smoker, wearing one of his many blood donation shirts. I rushed into the day without thinking about doing my hair (typical), but tried to set the table beautifully and have a clean kitchen. Mark wears his favorite color and will go on to eat more than anyone sitting at this table. Tim teases us with the BYU shirt and remains mysterious about his plans for the future. I’ll add that he is so strong from his landscaping work. I notice that Daniel is wearing a new version of the teal and white shirt he loved and wore all through high school and his mission. He’s almost finished with his first year at BYU, and his friend, the lovely McKenna joins us at the table. Paige is effortlessly elegant and happy, and has spent the last year since graduating from BYU settling into working as a freelance illustrator. And there is handsome, hardworking, and smart Michael, who changed jobs this year and is enjoying more sleep (even in April… he’s an accountant).

The blog is less about our children than it used to be, but they remain the ones who occupy our thoughts and conversations. They are still the focus of our energy and time, and when they linger at Sunday dinner as they did this week, I can draw from that happiness for a long time.

Some of you have read this blog from the beginning. There are 1,919 posts in the archives. I owe you a diploma or something, not that I have anything figured out except perhaps how to muster a tiny bit of faith. To each reader, whether you have read for years or months, I send my love to you.

Monday pep talk

Mondays are the definition of possibility. Sundays are about rest and vision and goals, but I set my feet on the path on Mondays. I haven’t met my mistakes of the week yet, so there is less to carry. My boys get back to their routines and I don’t have to wonder where they are. I have a lot on my mind, but it’s manageable in steps. Take courage now, let’s get started.

2020 photo album

Richard is on the 9th or 10th day of his bout with COVID-19. We don’t know where he was exposed. The illness has a new character each day, but his oxygen levels have been fine, so I am grateful for that. He has stayed isolated from us, and no one else at home has tested positive. The worry I have felt is a small thing compared to what others have gone through with this illness so I hesitate to even mention it. I will say that although Richard’s case can be termed as “mild” and he has not complained, this is a different kind of illness and unpleasant at best.

What is helping us get through quarantine? Entertainment. Empathy from an employee of the attendance office at the high school. Dedicated teachers who make education happen. Surprises left on our porch from friends. Sunsets. For me, it helps to have routines I can do without thinking and something to look forward to each day. On Tuesday, it was the arrival of our 2020 photo book. I wrote before that creating this album helped me see that 2020 was a great year for the Ross family. God gives us eyes to see sometimes.