In the Past Month

If Kevin has anymore weekend-long Scout training in the future, I'm going to pull my hair out. At this point, thankfully, it seems like he actually might be done with training, unless he wants to do the super hard-core training, which he doesn't. He had to be gone the weekend of General Conference for the second half of Wood Badge training. And please don't ask me what Wood Badge is, 'cause I really have no idea. I do know that over the two weekends, they launched some rocket-type things, Kev sang in a quartet, and they had to give presentations. Oh yeah, and they did have to make goals for their Scout troops to accomplish over a certain period of time. I'm sure they did other things, but I don't know what, or maybe I just don't remember. At least, I hope they did other things. Otherwise, what the heck were they doing for six days? Kev does have an assistant Scoutmaster now, though, which the both of us are thankful for. Hopefully, Kev won't have to ask to have anymore camp outs here so he can have a second adult around. Not that that's kosher either, but it's better than him being by himself.

Just last weekend, Kev and Sean took the Scouts camping on a small island in the Indian River. They borrowed someone's motorboat from the 2nd ward to get across. He said after getting over to the island, they played in the water for a while, but then after coming back on the beach and putting his shirt on, he felt little bites all over him. He came home the next with about 300 bites all over his arms and legs. Literally 300. He had put on some insect repellent from the Scout closet at the church, but I'm wondering how old it was, and if it's age had caused it to lose effectiveness. He said he grossed some people out at the work the next Monday. At least something good came out of the situation.

Allie and I made a whirlwind three-day trip to Utah on the 17th. Sarah and Jeremiah got married in the Salt Lake temple, and there was no way I was missing that. I had planned on just making the trip by myself, but then after deciding I'd stay with Kev's sister Erika and her family, I thought the kids would be awfully disappointed if I didn't bring at least one kid with me. So, I settled on Allie, since, surprisingly, she is actually much easier to fly with than little Sam. Allie can carry her own backpack, use the restroom, walk long distances without the need of a stroller, and pretty much just keep herself entertained for hours on end. Sami, on the other hand, is still a baby in that she needs a stroller in large, chaotic places, she can't sit still, and she needs to be entertained. I could have brought her, too, and flown her for free as a lap child, but there was no way I was doing that on my own. I wanted to actually enjoy the trip. And we did! We got to spend an hour with Sarah after arriving in Salt Lake, then drove down to Spanish Fork to see Steve and Erika and the kids. The wedding was the next day, so Allie stayed with Erika and Bri and Nate while I went to the temple by myself. I parked in a lot that cost five bucks to park in, but they didn't have an attendant-- it was an on-your-honor thing, where you had to put your money in a slot whose number coordinated with your stall number. I only had a twenty, panicked, and asked a lady who was a row down from me herding three or four kids and a baby if she had change for a twenty. She said she didn't, but that she had a five. I told her she didn't have to pay for my parking, but she said it was no big deal. I tried to see if she needed any help, but she insisted she didn't and started trekking it up to, I'm guessing, the Joseph Smith Memorial Building for a wedding she said she had to get to. She had kids walking with her, was pushing a stroller and carrying a baby carrier, had to walk somewhat uphill, AND she was faster than me. Talk about hard core!

As I crossed the street to get to Temple Square, a homeless woman, probably not all that much older than me, bundled in a weathered tan coat, tears filling her eyes, stopped me asking if I had any spare change. Normally I don't have any cash with me... but I realized I did have that twenty. I was reminded of that kind young mother that had just helped me out, giving me her five dollars without a thought, and was prompted to "pass it on." I hesitated slightly,remembering I had brought that twenty for emergency purposes and for any cases where I could only use cash, but relying on good faith, I opened up my purse, pulled out the twenty and put it in her hand telling her, "You know, here you go. Someone just helped me out." Then she kindly directed me to the entrance of the temple since I couldn't seem to remember where it was.

The temple was busy as usual, with large groups of people in the lobby in their Sunday best obviously having just attended various other sealings of the day. My old roomie Carrie was there in the sealing room-- neither one of us expecting to see the other. What a sacred place, the temple. That is one place where one really gains an understanding of reverence. All the verbal praising in the world cannot replace the Spirit felt there-- a place where you can feel the weight of the world literally being removed from your shoulders. Sarah looked beautiful, of course, and the love of friends, family, and the Lord evident in that breathtaking room was almost indescribable-- kind of like coming home. I felt honored to have been invited to witness that beautiful event.

In walking back to my car, I ran into another homeless woman with blond scraggly hair and a few missing teeth, but a sweet smile nonetheless. I did have about fifty cents left in my wallet, other than a bunch of pennies, so I gave that to her. We talked for a few minutes about the weather, and I indicated I wasn't used to the crisp air anymore since I've moved to Florida. She told me she was from Ohio. We said goodbyes and I continued to walk when I ran into that same homeless woman from the first time. She didn't recognize me and asked me for change again. I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Hon, I actually already gave you some earlier." Her eyes widened and filled with tears, then she put her hand over them embarrassed saying, "Oh, you did! I'm so sorry. I try really hard to remember the faces of those that give me money, so I don't ask the same people over and over and look stupid." I put my arm around her, reassuring her that I didn't think she was stupid, and that it would be difficult for anybody. She continued to cry for a bit, while I kept my arm around her comforting her. It was an interesting experience, one I had never really had before. But I was reminded of my mother. I knew that had she been in the same situation, she would have done the same thing... and she has done the same exact thing many times before. I finally caught a glimpse of the way my mother loves and feels for every single person she meets, no matter who they are or what their circumstance is. In turn, I caught a glimpse of the way each person is loved and valued by the Lord. I felt that love-- the love for those women, and the love the Lord has for me. It was a pivotal experience that I cannot forget.

Later that evening I drove to the reception at Thanksgiving Point. Jessie, my niece, came with me, and we sat with Sarah's siblings and Carrie most of the evening. Jessie, who's eleven, caught the bouquet, which I knew would give Steve a heart attack.

The next day Allie and I flew home-- a long, tiring flight. Allie was fine to fly, then excited to see our green car in the Orlando parking lot, but pretty darn upset when she wanted to drive to see her cousins. "But I wanna see my cousins! I wanna see Bri!" Maybe someday we'll live a bit closer to some of her cousins. My little social butterfly.

Oh, I almost forgot! Last weekend was our Relief Society craft day, and (get this!), I was asked to teach (are you ready?) a class on sewing aprons. Yup. I taught a sewing class. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (deep breath) ha ha ha ha! I can't say I was a great teacher, but the aprons actually weren't as hard as I thought they would be, and I did have a few people leave the class with completed aprons, which is always a good sign. I could have turned down the request to teach it, but I accepted it, merely to stretch my comfort zone.

I think everyone could use a good stretch now and then.

Laughing to Myself

Last night after putting my book down in anticipation of finally going to bed, an image of Allie popped into my head. I smiled and chuckled to myself as I saw this very vivid mental picture.

After getting off the plane Friday, I realized how late it was and that we hadn't eaten lunch earlier that day. Now it was past dinnertime. It would take just over an hour to drive home once we finally reached our car, and rather than letting Allie fall asleep, just to rouse her at home to feed her, I gave in and searched out the most convenient fast food place on the way to baggage claim. It happened to be McDonald's-- not my favorite, but tolerable. I got Allie a Happy Meal, as well as food for me, and we waited around till they had it ready. As soon as I could grab it, I did, holding my own food and drink and giving Allie hers to hold. I told Allie to hurry and stay with me, since we needed to catch the tram to get to baggage claim. And I started speed walking to the tram, hoping the doors wouldn't shut just as we approached. Of course, Allie wasn't next to me, so I stopped to give her time to catch up. I turned around.

Allie in her light blue gigantic Disney Princess backpack was walking as quickly and carefully as she could with one hand keeping her drink steady, and the other hand clutching her bag of food. She kept her eyes on her orange drink, obviously concerned about spilling it. Her little three-year-old legs moved quickly, for her, as she calmly called out, "Wait, Mama."

I don't know why the image so suddenly entered my mind last night, but I'm sure glad it did. It gave me a smile.

Homecoming Article

Last Friday while Allie and I were in the Orlando airport getting ready to come home, I called Kevin to let him know we had landed. After a few minutes he said, "Have you checked your email today?"

"No. I did last night, but not today. Why?"

"You're in the paper-- front page of the Life section."

A few weeks ago, in looking through Florida Today, I noticed a small note in the Life section calling for past homecoming queens to make themselves known for a future article. I was hesitant at first (people teasing me mercilessly, people thinking I was still hung up on it, etc.), but then I realized it would be a good time to reflect upon it and write a little about it, since I couldn't remember if I ever had recorded that event at all. I did as it asked, writing a few paragraphs on it, and scanning and emailing a few pictures.

A week later, the reporter called me back while I wasn't home. She left a message asking me to call her back so she could ask me a few questions. I forgot to call her back, though. I was getting ready to fly out to Utah with Allie and I really didn't have time to that at the moment. We never did talk to each other, so I didn't think much about it. I figured, too, that if anything got printed, it would be in the middle of the paper would no one would see it. Ha.

So, here's the web address to the online Florida Today article. Pictures can be viewed by clicking on the links under "Web Extras." http://www.floridatoday.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071019/LIFE/710190301/1005/
BREAKING&GID=moadPVm8e4ir2Mel3cADFCyK20iHlrtkifZt/r6Yheg%3D

The Bridge

(This the personal essay I recently wrote for my creative writing class-- I mentioned in the update that I'd post it. FYI, I'm taking college courses to be able to have the re-licensure points to renew my teaching license next year. If you have any comments, feel free to give them. I am self-conscious, so just be tactful if you hate it.)

As I struggled for air, gallons of water, rough water, rushed over my head and around my body pinning me to the concrete pillar underneath the bridge. Instinctively I grabbed it, wrapping my arms and legs around it; it was the only sense of security I had at the moment. My ears were filled with the roar of the river—no sound could penetrate it. I clung to the pillar, afraid of pain more than anything, and surprisingly calm, as if the idea of death that loomed before me didn’t seem as terrifying as I had imagined. I thought about Kevin, my new groom of three months, hoping he had made it safely to the riverbank. I knew he would be sad if I died, would probably cry even, but the thought of having been sealed for “time and all eternity” comforted me. No doubt he was afraid for me, if he had gotten to shore. Ugh, stupid Jody! This was all his fault!

Somehow Jody and Rob had convinced Kev and me to go tubing down the Provo River with them. Perhaps I was the only one of us that needed convincing—I’ve never been much of a daredevil, and getting married had eased some of the burden ever present as a young single girl of appearing tough and tomboyish to impress the athletic boys. Kev really wanted to go and I agreed, just like all the other times in our marriage I’ve agreed to go waterskiing, or when I’ve agreed to go horseback riding. There’s always a bit of reluctance, enough to possibly be labeled as a “party pooper,” but I go merely out of love. It’s sick, I know.

We had driven in two cars, met at the ending point near the bottom of the river, left our light blue ’91 Buick Regal there, and piled into Rob’s car to head up to the starting point. My window at the right of the rear seat, faced the river, and as we drove, I watched with intent every bend in the river, every rock, every current. That pit in my stomach came again. It was an old, familiar feeling—one that came every time I was about to attempt something out of my comfort zone, which oftentimes was something I thought was really stupid. I really don’t remember how long we drove from point to point, but I do remember passing an old, rickety railroad bridge that crossed over the river. The current divided just before the bridge, one current passing smoothly around the outer edge of the bridge, and the other passing directly underneath, which for some reason created a hideous gorge of bubbles, waves, and vortices. Utter chaos. My eyes widened and my pulse quickened.

“Hey, you know, I had a friend that almost died underneath that bridge!” I looked up at Jody. He was smiling. I knew he was just trying to scare me. Reading my emotions has always been easy and he was definitely messing with mine.

“Shut up, Jody, gimme a break!” I pretended it didn't bother me.

“No, I’m serious,” and I could tell he actually was.

“Just as she was going under on her tube, it flipped over, she got pushed under, and her head got stuck in between two boards. She didn’t come back up for, like, two minutes. She was somehow able to get loose.”

I shivered. “And we’re going in there? Are you guys crazy?!”

My husband put his arm around me, smiled, and in his calm, quiet voice said, “Kris, you’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.” He could be so convincing.

The car stopped and I climbed out, of course still with some apprehension. I pulled off my shorts and peeled off my shirt, throwing them in the trunk with my glasses and shoes. The guys did the same and grabbed the tubes while I in my swimsuit walked to the edge of the bank, to peek in at what awaited me. I blinked. The water looked so… friendly. There was an easiness about it. A laziness even. Suddenly my apprehension faded, and perhaps I became slightly cocky. It looked simple. I reminded myself, It’ll be fun, and I forgot about Jody’s story, willingly hopping on my tube.

The water grabbed hold of the tube and pulled me along, at a slow enough pace to where I could watch the birds nesting in the trees, and bees gathering pollen from the wildflowers lining the shore. There was a cool breeze blowing through my blonde curls, and I sat in awe of the blueness of the sky, the majesty and enormity of the mountainside shadowing me, able to see every crack of stratification. We all floated down the river, bend after bend, occasionally whizzing by a rock or two or three—enough to create some “rapids” and a bit of a rush. It was at this point when I decided I was glad I had come, glad I had allowed the guys to talk me into going. Nature had never felt so inviting, so peaceful. I’m sure I had some type of schoolwork due by Monday, but I doubt I could remember what it was. I was doing my best to live in the moment, and I felt… free. It wasn’t long before Kev’s tube popped after hitting a rock, and not wanting to swim the rest of the way, he hopped into my tube. I was fine with that, though. Nothing could break my high at that point. Then we turned another bend.

I heard rushing water and snapped my head forward. It was that bridge. I had forgotten all about that horrible thing. I saw where the current divided and Kev did, too. Jody’s story raced through my mind, and the two of us kicked and paddled with fury trying to get caught in the outside current, the safer current. Jody’s friend must have been caught in the current running directly underneath the middle of the bridge. Somehow even with my husband’s long arms and legs flailing in the water, the wrong current caught our tube. I braced myself as the current dragged us nearer at a stronger and quicker speed. My husband knew we would flip eventually, and he advised, “Don’t hold on to the tube. Just let go, okay?”

“Okay.” And the bridge was upon us. It seemed we were to crash directly into the wooden pillar to the left, but just as Kev had predicted, the current grabbed the front of the tube, flipping us out just before crashing. I was pulled under, the water whipping me around until it pinned me up against that concrete foundation of the wooden pillar. I really thought I was going to die. How was I to get out of it? The weight and force of the water was too much to climb up and out. And I was becoming too comfortable with the idea of giving up.

Then a voice, a man’s voice, distinctive and clear. “Let go!”

What? Are you kidding me?! Let go. Oh, right, so the water can drag me further down? No, thank you!

“Let go!”

Oh, fine. I did. The water dragged me down. Uh huh, just as I thought it would. Now I’ve done it! And then it shot me out… and up. I surfaced, gasping for air. Smarty pants. I looked around, and my husband was on the shore, and a look of relief that obviously had been terror, crossed his face. Tears rolled down my cheeks, as he pulled me out and held me. I realized he almost lost me.

“Who was yelling for me to let go?”

“Huh? Well, I think that guy fishing over there was,” he nodded to a man on the other side, “but I don’t see how you could have possibly heard him over the roar of the water. I mean, we were all yelling for you.”

I stared across the river, and then at the torrent of water under the bridge. My chest burned—deep and warm and calming. And with that burning, a burning that had become so familiar as I came to recognize ultimate truth, I knew whose clear, perfect voice had spoken so clearly in my ear.

And as I now look over at my three-year-old daughter Allie, leaning on my bed dressed in her new yellow Belle gown while humming “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” I shudder at the thought of possibly never having her or her little sister around me, giggling and growing. I am reminded of what I would have lost if I had not heard His voice.

Or worse, if I had not heeded it.

In the Past Month

I don't know what it is, but sometimes I think Blogger hates me. It won't let me log in for weeks at a time, then I can log in for a few weeks, then I can't log in, can log in, etc. So, I've been waiting until I could log in to be able to whip up an update, and guess what? I still couldn't log in! Ah, but how am I posting this, you say? Well, I did something ultra stealthy, but I'm not sure why it worked. I tried to create a blog (not really, but I wanted to see where it would take me), had to log in to my Gmail account through Blogger to do so, then clicked on the "home" link at the bottom of the first set-up page it took me to, and... voila, I'm logged in. What the...? I don't know what happened. Don't ask.

I know it has been a while since I've written anything, but having started a new independent study class, I've been a bit busy. I have been writing, but just not publicly. It's actually a creative writing class. Maybe I'll post my recent personal essay on here or something. Just don't laugh at it. Although if you did I wouldn't know. Just don't tell me you've laughed at it then.

Anyhow, as always I really enjoyed General Conference this past weekend. I especially needed President Eyring's talk. Perhaps it's all too easy for me to forget, or set aside, the miracles and blessings in my life when I'm challenged with a new, or even ongoing, trial-- when I think I'm emotionally spent, and that I must be completely alone in this because "it's not getting any better." I cannot forget of the Lord's love for me, and must always remember the many times that love has been proven to me. I think the most powerful part of Conference, is not so much the inspiring words we hear, but that those words are inspired-- that the men and women that deliver the messages, have been called of God by authority, and have the inspiration by that same authority to tell us what the Lord wants us to hear. I was taught years ago that one way to approach Conference is to come with a question-- one you've been seeking an answer to. And that question will be answered. President Eyring answered my question, and I have a renewed resolution to not forget God.

I wish Kev could have enjoyed Conference with the girls and me, but he was at his second (and last) weekend session of Wood Badge training for Scouts-- yeah, gone from before dawn on Friday through Sunday. At least it it was the last weekend. His first was in September... the day after he returned from a five day business trip in Boston. Ack. He did get to go to Fenway Park, though, and see the Red Sox play the Devil Rays, with a home run ball landing a few rows from him and John. They had to buy their tickets from a scalper, which left him with no money for food at the game, but who cares? He was at Fenway Park! After spending a week alone, I decided to spend the weekend with my great-aunts and uncles in the Villages. It was a nice break from loneliness-- riding in the golf cart, dancing at the town square, looking at old photos, eating food I didn't have to make. Allie was pretty disappointed when it was time to go.

Man, I really hate it when Kev's gone. I spend way too much time thinking about how I'm going to outsmart and rip apart any fruitcake that tries to get in my house. I have a very active and vivid imagination, which can be such a drag at times. Obviously Allie has inherited this, from all the time she spends off in dreamland-- it's like she's in this never-ending musical, singing and flitting about, and all the yelling in the world can't snap her out of it. Anyhow, Kev's glad Wood Badge is basically done, but he did have a good time. Sang in a quartet for the Sacrament Meetings on both weekends-- the quartet including his office mate and my old BYU Women's Chorus director. How fun is that? The other guy was random, but I think it's great that he got to do that.

Kev also celebrated his 31st birthday. He told me he didn't want a cake, but I made one secretly anyway and took it to the church. Conveniently, I had a meeting at the church at the same time he had Scouts, so I snuck the cake in the back of the Subaru before he got home from work, and then we drove separately to the church in anticipation of me getting done first. After my meeting, I got the cake ready in the kitchen, handed out goofy hats to whomever wanted to sing with us, crept up to the Scout room with the girls and a few others, and burst in singing "Happy Birthday." Yeah, kinda lame, but he thought it was sweet, and I was able to get rid of a bunch of the cake between the Scouts and other random people wandering the halls.

So, that's it. Nothin' fancy, but we're happy, and that's all that matters.